


The Family Out of Time

by Omninerd90



Series: Guns and Ghouls [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Explicit Language, F/M, Feels, Recreational Drug Use, Sensuality, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8417095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omninerd90/pseuds/Omninerd90
Summary: Rose is raring to tackle the Courser and zap her way into the Institute, when Nick Valentine brings her some news that stops her dead in her tracks.  He's uncovered information about a vault in Albany that may very well give her a tangible connection to her past... perhaps she's not alone as she once believed.Sequel to "Long Road Ahead."





	1. Chapter 1

“Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help me?” Rose demanded around the screws in her mouth.  She was kneeling on the walkway on top of the main gate into Goodneighbor, shoulder-deep into the gears of one of the new turrets they had been setting up around the perimeter.  After the gangster Sinjin had been able to slip in and catch Hancock off guard, it had been decided that increasing the town’s security was a _bit_ of a necessity. 

Hancock was leaning against the wall beside her; he eyed her form with approval as she worked.  “The first option.  Someone should be watching your back while you’re distracted.”

“It’s not my back you’re watching,” she muttered, and he winked.

“Just enjoying the view, Sunshine.”

She rolled her eyes, clenching her teeth as she wrestled blindly with the inner workings of the machine.  Something clanged into place; she withdrew her hand and started up the motor, smiling victoriously when it hummed into life.

“That should get Fahrenheit off your back, for a little while anyway,” she said.  She stood up and stuck out her tongue when she saw her hands.  “Urgh.  And now I’m covered in grease.”  She held up a hand as he opened his mouth.  “ _Don’t_ say what you’re thinking.”

“What?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.  “I was just gonna say it’s a good look for you.”

“Uh huh.  Better not let Fahre see you fooling around or she’ll put a bullet in us both.”

He sighed.  “I didn’t think it was possible for her to be any more up my ass.”

“It’s because she cares about you.  In her own terrifying, violent way.”  Rose began to step back down the ladder to the ground.  “Come on.  I want to get cleaned up before Nick and Piper get here, and there might be _just_ enough time for you to help me.”

“How about that?  You read my mind.”

She grinned and took his hand, but he hung back when she tried to pull him along behind her. 

She turned back to him with a questioning look.  “Is something wrong?”

He shrugged, but was fidgeting with the detailing on his coat; something was clearly o his mind.  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to pick your brain about something.  Not that I don’t wanna make the most of whatever it is you’ve got in mind, but I wanted to bring it up before the others get here.”

Rose crossed her arms, her brow pinching with concern.  “Do I need to be worried about something?”

“Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“Okay.”  She waited, and when he didn’t come right out with it, she prompted, “I’ve got a lot of talents, John, but mind-reading isn’t one of them.  What’s the deal?”  

“I’ve been… well, I’m thinkin’ about making Fahre mayor, in my place,” he said, pulling on his hat the way he did when he felt uncomfortable or guilty.

Rose stared at him, a little dumbfounded.  “Seriously?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Yeah.”

“You’re not just really high or anything, are you?”

He laughed.  “Not at this particular moment.  Nah, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, actually.”

“Huh.”  Rose arched an eyebrow.  “Does this have anything to do with Sinjin?”

“Getting the shit beaten out of me and taking a slug to the gut might’ve cemented a few things, but no.”  He twirled his knife around in his fingers as he spoke.  After a moment, he continued, “When I first set out with you, I thought I was just gonna get my head on straight… sharpen the ol’ killer instinct, take a breather from running a city.  But every time I come back there’s just more and more weight getting’ thrown on my shoulders, you know?  More people lookin’ to me to make decisions… and more enemies popping out of the woodwork to try and bring me down.”

“That is generally how these things go, yeah.  I thought you loved being mayor?”

He shrugged.  “Ain’t tryin’ to give you the wrong idea; I love my people, and I love this town.  Taking out Vic and making Goodneighbor a halfway decent place to live… that felt really good.  But I’m not a leader.  I talk a good game, can get the crowds riled up… but being tied down to one place has never been my style.”  His expression was uncertain, conflicted.  “Running around with you, taking out the bad guys and waging our own personal war against the Institute?  Nothing’s felt more right.  I’d take following that perfect ass of yours into a fight over mayoral duties any day of the week.”

“That’s so sweet,” Rose said sarcastically, kicking at his boot when he playfully grabbed her behind.

“You’re just inspirational, that’s all I’m sayin’,” he said.  “But seriously… each time I try to slip back into being mayor, I feel stifled.  Like someone’s tryin’ to smother me in my sleep.”

“And Fahre’s the better option?”

“I think so.  She’s always been the brains behind runnin’ this place, and she’s held things together pretty damn well since I’ve been gone.”  He chuckled.  “She ain’t got none of my charisma, but she scares the shit outta people enough.  She’ll be fine.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

He shook his head.  “Not yet.  Half of me’s worried she’ll slit my throat for wanting to quit.  Fahre’s been my right-hand man since the beginning.”

“Somehow I don’t think it’s _your_ throat she’d be aiming for,” Rose said dryly.  The ginger-haired mercenary hadn’t bothered to hide her lack of esteem for Rose, and had suggested more ­­than once to Hancock that his relationship with her was making him soft and distracted.  It wasn’t hard to guess who Fahrenheit would blame for his desire to step down.  

“I’m behind you no matter what you decide, but this isn’t a decision you have to make right away,” she continued, after a moment of thought.  “If you feel the same way in the morning, we’ll have a chat with Fahrenheit and see where she stands... though I might insist on disarming her first.”

“You really don’t think you could take her?  It ain’t like she’s a Mirelurk Queen or something.”  He grinned.  “Well, she’s got the personality of one sometimes, but…”

“I still have dreams about her aiming Ashmaker at my face while deciding whether or not to kill me for breaking into your storehouse.”

“I wasn’t ever gonna have her kill ya,” Hancock admitted, as they resumed walking back into the state house.  “Bobbi and her little goon were expendable, but you were too interesting.  Figured I’d deal with you myself if things really went south.”

“And how would you have done that?”

“I had a few ideas,” he said, his voice dropping to a raspy purr that made her shiver.  “Wanna find out how many we can get through before Valentine and Miss Reporter show up?”

Rose grinned.  “Do you even have to ask?”

* * *

About an hour and several distracted attempts to leave later, they were finally able to extricate themselves from the bed and head down to the bar.  Happiness ballooned in Rose’s chest as she stepped down the stairs into the Third Rail and spotted a familiar worn-out overcoat standing next to red leather.  She hadn’t realized how much she had missed her two friends… especially after the last couple of weeks. 

She barely made it down to the bottom step before Magnolia’s song was drowned out by frantic barking; two seconds later she was knocked back on her ass as a hurtling rocket of brown fur tackled her.

“Dogmeat!” she exclaimed delightedly, laughing as the shepherd urgently tried to lick every inch of her face.  “I missed you too buddy!”

“And yet when I try that, I get punched and told I’m too high,” Hancock observed wryly. He reached out to help pull her back to her feet.

“Better than what I would do to you,” Piper replied to him, but she was smiling.  She had followed Dogmeat from the bar, and yanked Rose into a tight hug.  “Blue!  I gotta say, with all the rumors that have been flying around I was getting worried!”

“There are more than usual?”

“Between taking a dip in the Glowing Sea and picking fights with notorious crime lords, no, not really,” Nick replied good-humoredly.  He wrapped an arm around Rose’s shoulders and shook Hancock’s hand affectionately.  “Good to see the both of you… especially in one piece.”

“In spite of our best efforts,” Hancock affirmed, smirking.

The four of them sat down at a table in the corner of the bar.  Hancock motioned for Whitechapel Charlie to bring over some drinks.  Dogmeat settled himself resolutely next to Rose, resting his head on her thigh and staring adoringly up at her.

“So how much of what we’ve heard is true?” Nick asked, lighting up one of his ever-present cigarettes.  “Gotta say I was surprised to hear that you were spotted with the Brotherhood of Steel.  I understand that they’re normally not too fond of non-humans.”

“An understatement if there ever was one,” Hancock muttered, rolling his dark eyes.  “But the good paladin was chomping at the bit to get into Rose’s-”

“It’s a long story,” Rose cut in, cuffing him on the shoulder to shut him up.  “The quick version is that we helped out their paladin a while back, and he felt obligated to pay us back by escorting us through the Glowing Sea.  And that scientist we were looking for, Virgil?  Turns out he’s a supermutant right now.”

“What?” Piper’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline.  “Like, talks only in grunts, decorates strictly with dismembered body parts…?”

“He’s actually quite articulate.  He was working on a cure for the FEV virus before he had to escape the Institute.”  She narrowed her eyes at her friend.  “And you are _not_ allowed to publish that, Piper.  Just because Kellogg is dead doesn’t mean the Institute won’t try to send someone else after him if they figure out where he is.”

Piper held up her palms.  “Hey, we’re always off-the-record unless stated otherwise, right?”  But her smile gained a slightly guilty cast that told Rose she was thinking exactly the opposite.

“Did he give you anything useful?” Nick asked interestedly, ever the detective.

“He says Rose needs to take down a courser if we want to get into the Institute,” Hancock replied.  “Because apparently killin’ their most infamous hired gun wasn’t enough.”

“A courser?” Piper’s brows drew together.  “I don’t think I’ve heard of those.”

“They’re some kind of synth elite, as far as combat goes,” Rose explained.  “Gen 3’s who are trained to ‘recover’ lost Institute property, and kill anyone who gets in their way.  Virgil assures me that no one has either escaped or survived a courser encounter yet.”

“Well, no one survived Kellogg either, and you put a quick end to that,” Nick said reassuringly.  Rose smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Thanks, Nick.”

“Anytime.”

“So what happens after you kill the courser?” Piper asked.  She didn’t have a pen in hand, but Rose could practically see her taking notes in her mind.

“We build something called a ‘signal interceptor’ that Virgil gave us the schematics for-”

“If you can call _those_ schematics,” Hancock scoffed.  “Looks like someone gave Dogmeat a crayon and let him go nuts.”

“… Be that as it may, it’s still better than nothing.  If we can build that and link up the programming we get from the courser chip, then I should theoretically be able to zap myself straight to the Institute.”

Nick frowned.  “Zap?”

“She means teleport,” Hancock said, as he knocked back a shot of whiskey.  “Fuckin’ insane if you ask me, but I guess if it’s the only way to get to the Institute…”

Rose rubbed his arm.  “It’ll be fine.  If they wanted me dead they would have done it a long time ago, I think.”

“Ain’t like they haven’t tried.  And I’m a little more concerned about you gettin’ fried by a crazy machine, Sunshine.”

“Any way we can help?” Piper asked.

Rose shook her head.  “Not right now.  I’m not going to ask you two to put your lives at risk going after the courser with me, but I might need an extra hand in gathering supplies for the signal interceptor after that’s all said and done.”

At that moment a woman under the influence of something- alcohol, chems, or both- sidled by their table and stopped to flutter her fingers coyly at Hancock.

“Hey, Mr. Mayor,” she cooed, smiling.  “Who’re your friends?”

“Cindy,” he replied, tipping his hat to her and giving her a quick smile, but otherwise ignoring her.  It wasn’t unusual for people to approach him; being mayor also meant that he was generally the most popular person in the room.  Most of the time people came around looking for chems or caps, and sometimes they were just looking to enjoy a few wild stories.  Hancock had plenty of all three.

Undeterred by her cool reception, “Cindy” fluffed her blonde hair, smile broadening.  “Haven’t seen you around lately… was thinking maybe we could catch up.  I’ve got a lotta Jet up in my room and no one to share it with.”  She faked pouting, though the effect was diminished by the exaggerated arch of her back as she tried to emphasize her curves.  “And I remember how much fun we had after a few hits…”

Piper stiffened, looking awkward and uncomfortable.  Nick kept his glowing eyes on Rose, who had watched the display with her head cocked.  She eyed the woman appraisingly; Cindy was attractive in a wasteland trollop kind of way, though she had the strung-out look of a regular chem user.  Rose had discovered that it wasn’t unusual for old lovers to seek Hancock out… he’d been a womanizer even as a smooth-skinned human, and the combination of drugs, charm, and good sex made him far more popular than most ghouls, at least as far as one-night-stands were concerned.  Most of them backed off after realizing that he was now spoken for, but Cindy appeared to be one of the few who either didn’t know, or didn’t care.

“Gonna have to pass on that one, sister, but thanks,” Hancock replied neutrally.  “Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy a drink at the bar on me.”

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?”  She twirled a lock of hair around her finger.  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

As she spoke, Cindy reached out to trail her fingers along his jaw and tug teasingly at the front of his coat.  And with that, Rose had officially had enough.  She shifted herself over onto Hancock’s lap and pulled out her pistol, casually checking the magazine and the chamber as she did so.  Cindy had no problem getting the message then; she went white and yanked her hand back like she had been bitten.

“Wanna introduce me to your friend?” Rose asked Hancock lightly, as she flicked the safety off.  “We clearly haven’t met yet.”

Cindy didn’t bother sticking around.  She put her hands up towards Rose in surrender, muttering a quick apology under her breath, and hastily backed off.  She disappeared to the other side of the bar, head ducked under Rose’s stern eye.

“And yet I’m the jealous one?” Hancock asked her, but he was grinning.

“I’m not jealous,” Rose said innocently.  “Jealousy requires the possibility of competition.  I was being _friendly_.”

“So you two are…?” Piper asked, looking back and forth between the two of them with a slight blush.

“She’s a hard woman to refuse,” Hancock said in affirmation.  His grin took on a wicked edge as he added, “Though there’s always room for a third if you find yourself getting bored…”

Piper went scarlet, and Rose gave him a look _._

“Behave yourself!”

“You can threaten to shoot someone I was with _one time_ but I’m misbehaving for suggesting-”

“Yes.”  She kicked his calf with her heel. 

“Oh this is _definitely_ going to be in my paper,” Piper said.  “I’ve got the headline now: ‘Gangster Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbor Seduces Vulnerable Vault-Dweller.’  That story oughta sell out like _that_.”  She snapped her fingers.

“I didn’t realize the Publick was becoming a gossip rag now,” Rose countered playfully.

Hancock shifted her to a more comfortable position on his lap, his hands drifting teasingly over her thighs.  “Hey, if you need any photos to accompany that article of yours…”

“ _John!_ ”

“Not that this subject isn’t engrossing, but I’ve come across some information you might be interested in, Rose,” Nick said, tactfully changing the subject as Piper flushed crimson yet again.

Rose perked up.  “Oh?  About the Institute?”

“Vault-Tec, actually.”

Her expression became confused.  “Vault-Tec?  Why would I want to know anything about them?”

The synth shrugged.  “After hearing your story about being frozen for two centuries, I got curious.  I put the word out to a few friends who regularly travel outside of the Commonwealth, trading and such.  One of them came back with word about a similar facility in Albany.  Fully functioning vault, still manned and running cryo experiments on pre-war subjects.  He trades with them from time to time, brings them supplies they can’t build or grow themselves.”  His expression softened, his artificial eyes somehow managing to convey sympathy.  “Don’t know if you’d even want to check it out, but it didn’t seem right not to tell you.”

Rose stared at him as the blood drained from her cheeks.  Her expression must have been horrified, because he immediately became concerned and tried to backtrack.

“Look, if I’ve upset you at all-”

“My family was in Albany,” Rose replied faintly.  “My mother and my sister.  That’s where I grew up.  I moved to Sanctuary after I married Nate.  What you’re saying… if there’s really a cryo vault in that city… then they might still be alive?”


	2. Chapter 2

**(Rose)**

Rose paced restlessly in the main room of the Old State House, fraught with indecision.  Nick and Piper had left a couple of hours ago, after talking out the possibilities of the cryo vault.  Nick hadn’t gotten access to any names of the subjects, but Vault-Tec had targeted Rose because of her father’s military service; it made complete sense that her mother and sister would have been approached as well.  She wasn’t certain her mother would have accepted the offer; Vault-Tec was government-sponsored, and she had developed a strong mistrust of both the government and the military after Rose’s father had passed.  Her sister, on the other hand- though certainly outspoken against the war- didn’t possess their mother’s paranoia.  There was a chance she might have been persuaded to accept Vault-Tec’s offer.

 _If_ they had been approached at all, that is.  This entire scenario all hinged on the assumption that Vault-Tec had been just as interested in the rest of Rose’s family, an assumption she’d have no way of verifying until she actually arrived at the vault itself.  Not for the first time since Nick had brought it up, she cursed herself for not having kept in better touch. 

Rose had resigned herself to being the last surviving member of her family, besides Shaun; she had already grieved for their deaths along with Nate’s murder.  The possibility that either one or both of them could still be alive, trapped in icy suspended animation, was threatening to undo all the work she had done to accept her new life in the wasteland.  Keeping her mind focused on the present was so much more difficult when there was a chance that someone from her time- someone who had known her all her life- might still be alive.

She couldn’t decide if it would be crueler to shatter their worlds by waking them to life after the apocalypse, or to condemn them to untold years of experimentation at the hands of Vault-Tec.

“How do I justify this?” she asked, thinking aloud as she paced.  Dogmeat, who had been pacing along with her as though she might bolt from the room, whined anxiously in response.

Hancock watched her walk back and forth across the room- _their_ room now, he supposed, as odd a thought as that was to have- and rolled a Mentat along his tongue meditatively.  “What’s there to justify?  You said Albany’s, what, a four days’ walk from here?  If you think your family might be in that vault, then let’s go get ‘em.  Always wanted to check out what’s beyond the Commonwealth anyway.”

“ _If_ they’re even there.  And I couldn’t even begin to predict how they would react to… all of this.”  She gestured around vaguely.  “I adapted because I didn’t have a choice, and because I have something to fight for.  What if the shock is too much for them?  My mother wasn’t- isn’t?- exactly young.”

He shrugged.  “Eventually that vault is gonna go offline.  Don’t care how smart those vault-dwellers are… nothing’s built to last forever.  When that happens, anyone stuck down there taking an ice nap is either gonna get woken up when those tanks lose power, or they’ll die, right?  At least if you go get them now, they’ve got someone to show them the ropes.”

She sighed, fingers tugging at her hair as she ran her hands over her head.  “It’s another delay in rescuing Shaun, too.”

“Listen,” Hancock said, his tone turning gentle as he pulled her toward him.  “Don’t hate me for sayin’ this, but Shaun’s already been with the Institute for at least ten years, right?  I don’t think a week’s gonna make much of a difference at this point.”  She dropped her head to his shoulder and he held her a little tighter.  “But you don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, Sunshine.  It’s up to you.  We can stay here, hunt down that courser, and put every raider, supermutant, and feral into the ground in between.  This doesn’t have to change anything.”

“But it does,” Rose said, her voice muffled against his coat.  She looked up at him, her expression tired and worried.  “I don’t think I could live with myself if I let them stay there… if they’re even in that vault at all.  I don’t want to get my own hopes up, but if there’s any chance… they would come for me, I think, if they could.  I should at least try.”

He nodded.  “I thought you might say something like that.  So when are we leavin’?”

According to the map on Rose’s Pip-boy, her initial estimate had been right; Albany would be roughly a four-day walk, including time to sleep and rest during the nights.   Sanctuary was literally a half-way point, which was just as well.  There would almost certainly be a panic if she left the Commonwealth without first informing her little home settlement, or the rest of the Minutemen.

* * *

Rose normally felt relaxed when she was in Sanctuary- or as relaxed as she ever got without the aid of chems or alcohol- but this time she felt as tightly wound as a clock spring.  She curled against Hancock on the bed she had set up in the back room of the Red Rocket truck stop, a grimace pulling at her features as she tried to rest.  Hancock and Dogmeat were both already fast asleep, worn out from a long day of travel and battling with a particularly angry yao guai that had happened across their path earlier in the day.  But each time Rose began to drift off, her thoughts decayed into a mix of unpleasant memories and anxiety-fueled worst case scenarios.

Eventually she became frustrated enough to give up.  She eased herself off the mattress, taking care not to wake Hancock, and stepped lightly outside after pausing to search his coat for a pack of cigarettes and some matches.  She leaned against the front entrance and lit up.  She didn’t often smoke, but her only other options at the moment were Jet or Med-X; the former would keep her up, and the Med-X was intended for emergency first aid… and would make her groggy as all hell, besides.  She could always walk over to Sanctuary and have whoever was working guard duty hook her up with some hard liquor, but her two companions would freak if either of them woke up to find her gone.

A chill ran through her as she stood in the night air; autumn had come again, and though the nuclear bombs had played merry havoc with the climate, it was still getting colder.  She didn’t tend to notice the cooler temperatures too much during the day, but standing outside at night in nothing but a cotton tank top and her underwear was enough to raise goosebumps along her skin.

She took a long drag from her cigarette, pulling the smoke in through her nose and exhaling in a long, steady breath.  Exhausted from trying to rein her mind in, she let her thoughts travel where they would, her frown deepening as she rehashed her internal arguments against going to Albany.  The logical thing to do would be to abandon the entire thing, or at least wait it out until she had safely recovered Shaun and taken care of the Institute.  But picturing her mom or sister trapped behind that icy glass in the same way Nate had been made her stomach turn.

She spotted movement in the dark shadows behind her, catching it out of the corner of her eye, and nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Damn it, John, you scared me half to death,” she hissed, after catching herself reaching for the shotgun that wasn’t there.

He propped himself up against the counter, unbothered by her brief irritation, and took the pack from her hands to help himself to a cigarette.  “I thought you were finally gettin’ a handle on those nightmares.”

“So did I.”  She rubbed her eyes.  “I can’t stop worrying about my family.  It makes me think about everything that’s happened to me, and then I imagine if that happened to either one of them… God, I would lose my shit.”

“You’re freakin’ yourself out over stuff that ain’t even happened yet,” Hancock said consolingly.  “Doll, between your reputation and having the Commonwealth literally covered in friends who each owe you about a million favors, your mom and sis will probably be two of the safest individuals this side of the continent.”

“It’s not just that.  I’m not…” She fidgeted, unsure of how to word her concern.  “I’ve changed a lot, since they last saw me.”

He chuckled.  “No shit.  That ain’t such a bad thing.”

“To them, it might be.”  She took another drag and frowned when she reached the end of her cigarette.  “Mom had already all but disowned me before the bombs fell.  Finding out her eldest daughter has a kill count higher than her husband’s entire unit and is sleeping with a man out of wedlock yet again is not something she’s bound to be thrilled about.”

He gave her a skeptical look.  “She expected you to get hitched before having sex?  Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s mostly the time she grew up in,” Rose explained, waving her hand dismissively.  “A lot of pre-war society was based on values taken from the Judeo-Christian religions, and that included sexual purity.  For women, at least.”

“No wonder you guys blew up the world.”

Rose surprised herself by laughing.  “Not everything is about sex, Casanova.  And that is a terrible joke to make.”

“Got you to smile, didn’t it?”

He noticed Rose begin to shiver with cold and drew her into his arms.  He was shirtless, but the cool air didn’t bother him as much as it did her; he radiated warmth, a common result of the ghoul condition.

“So if you’re bent on not sleeping for the rest of the night…” he said, ducking his head to nip at her ear as he spoke.

She rolled her eyes and reached for the cigarette in his fingers, intending to steal the last hit.  He pulled his hand away, thwarting her attempt with a smirk, and finished it off himself.  Then, before she could pout, he took her face between his hands and kissed her, shotgunning the smoke past her lips.  She breathed him in, tasting the unique combination of cloves and Mentats on her tongue.  She felt his hands slip down as her mouth moved with his, squeezing her ass before lifting her up and setting her on the counter behind him.  Both her top and her underwear disappeared.  She pressed her forehead against his as he sheathed himself inside of her, biting her lip to keep from crying out. 

His hips ground against hers, and she could tell that he was nearly ready to come when Dogmeat appeared from the back room, shaking himself and stretching with a yawn.  Rose gasped and then laughed when the German Shepherd regarded them with what was at first curiosity, but appeared to rapidly degrade into disgust as he snorted and trotted outside.

“Party crasher!” Hancock called accusingly, which got a short, annoyed-sounding bark back in response.  Rose smiled and brought his lips back to hers, still stifling giggles at Dogmeat’s disgruntled reaction.  Their romp ended when neither of them could keep from laughing any longer, and Rose followed Hancock back to bed in much higher spirits… though Dogmeat refused to come back inside for the rest of the night.

* * *

They reached the boundaries of Albany by the morning of their fifth day of travel; they had stayed longer in Sanctuary than Rose had anticipated, as she had spent an excessive amount of time calming Preston down over the radio.  The straight-laced minuteman hadn’t been pleased to hear that she was venturing beyond the Commonwealth with only her dog and Hancock, whom he tolerated but trusted about as much as a sleeping deathclaw.  He tried to argue for her to wait until he could join her, but Rose shot him down, reminding him that she needed someone to keep the minutemen together in her absence.

From there, the rest of the journey had gone relatively smoothly.  Albany was a fair distance from the site of any nuclear explosions, so the big, bloodthirsty mutant encounters were at a minimum.  And being such a small party meant they flew under the radar of any gangs that were looking to hijack caravans for their goods or people.

The first actual settlement they came across since leaving the Commonwealth was a place called “The Tower”; it was located in downtown Albany, and seemed to be uniquely composed of one well-fortified apartment building.  A few hand-drawn signs labeled the settlement, with the typical warnings added in.  Armed guards patrolled the base of the building, and turrets scanned the horizon on the balconies of every third floor or so.

“Damn.”  Hancock whistled, counting the turrets as they looked up at the building.  “Don’t look like they’re too wild about guests.”

“All that security reminds me of Diamond City,” Rose observed, hand on the butt of her shotgun as the guards noticed them.  One of them broke away and came up to meet them as they approached.  He slowed when Dogmeat growled, warning him to keep his distance.

“You can stop there,” the guard advised.  He was dressed in typical wastelander fashion and carried only a beat-up hunting rifle, but he spoke with authority that hinted he was either the one in charge, or that he wished he was.   “What’s your business at the Tower?”

“Information,” Rose replied.  “We’re looking for Vault 124.”

“Oh, them.”  The guard’s eyes flickered down to the Pip-boy on her wrist.  “You’re one of them vault-dwellers too, huh?  You seem a little rough around the edges for someone who’s spent their life underground.”  He paused, and then added, “Can’t say I’ve seen too many vaulties runnin’ around with a ghoul, either.”

“A ghoul?”  Rose’s eyes widened and she turned to Hancock in mock horror.  “You mean you’ve been lying to me?  You’ve been a ghoul this entire time?”

“And here I was hoping your gullible vaultie brain wouldn’t figure it out,” Hancock bantered in return.  To the guard, he said, “Nice job, brother.  Had a good thing going there.”

“Alright, alright.”  The guard was scowling, unamused.  “Look, if you want to find Vault 124, head northwest for about six miles or so.  It’s on the outskirts of the old university over there.”

“University at Albany,” Rose said automatically.  “I know exactly where that is.”

The guard frowned in confusion.  “If you know where the vault is, then why’re you asking for direct-”

“Thanks.”  Rose began walking away before he had even finished his sentence, her determination rekindled.  That had been her sister’s school.  If they hurried, they could be at the vault in a couple of hours.

Hancock jogged a little to catch up with her.  “So if we’re heading to a university… that mean this was your school?”

She shook her head.  “No, my sister’s.  But I spent enough time there helping her move in into the dorms; I know my way around well enough.  Or I did, anyway.”

“What’s the story with you and your sister, anyway?  You haven’t said much about her yet.”

Rose rolled her stiff neck and shoulders, jaw clenching slightly at the question.  “We were close until I got together with Nate.  She didn’t like him, and ended up taking my mother’s side on the whole ordeal.  She didn’t stop talking to me the way Mom did, but she made it clear that she thought I was throwing my life away for a man that wasn’t right for me.  That made things a little awkward between us, as you might imagine.”

“Huh.  And after all that, you still wanna go after the two of ‘em?”

Rose frowned.  “They’re family.”

“Hey, I’m still technically related to that blowhard lording over Diamond City, but I wouldn’t waste any time digging his ass out of a Vault-Tec freezer.  Being blood don’t mean _that_ much.”  Dogmeat woofed as in affirmation, and Hancock patted him lightly on the head.

“They disagreed with my choices; doesn’t mean that I stopped loving them.”  Her fingers tapped absently against her gun as she walked.  “And I know it’s selfish, but I… if they’re alive, or if even one of them made it to the vault, then I get a piece of my past back.  My life isn’t just a bunch of stories about a history people barely remember… it’s their lives, too.”  She looked sidelong at him.  “I don’t expect you to understand.  It barely makes sense to me.”

“Hey, I may not have gotten all that fancy education that you did, but I can understand not wantin’ to be alone.”  He draped an arm around her shoulders, his thumb rubbing little circles against her throat where he could feel her pulse.  He could feel it begin to slow down as the tension gradually left her shoulders, and the stressed lines in her face softened.

“You don’t gotta prove anything to me,” he added.  “I’m just curious, is all.  Family ain’t something that’s been on my radar for a few decades now.  Guess that sorta happens when you go ghoul and your only living relative is an asshole.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, as she stopped to give him a brief kiss.  “This could be a wild goose chase for all I know, but I’m glad I’ve got you with me.”  Dogmeat whined, and Rose gave his ears a quick rub.  “You too, boy.  Don’t worry.”


	3. Chapter 3

****

**(Rose)**

“Might as well turn around right now.  You’re not getting past that door.”

Rose’s breath came out in an irritated huff.  They had reached the vault by late afternoon; it was easy enough to find, as there were still signs pointing it out around the campus.  They found the entrance in an administrative building that Rose had remembered still being in construction the last time she had actually visited.  There was no power to any of the elevators, but an intact staircase had led them down into basement where they had found the unmistakable cog-wheel door.

They had no sooner set foot on the basement floor when the warning burst forth in a static crackle from overhead speakers.  Several cameras watched their movements, but there were no turrets or other security measures immediately apparent; vault doors were generally solid enough to withstand even a mini-nuke.  Most wasteland inhabitants wouldn’t stand a chance of breaking through, even after a prolonged assault.

Most wastelanders didn’t have a Pip-boy, though.  Rose strolled over to the entry terminal, hooking in to the auxiliary port and flipping through the screens with practiced ease.  She could hear surprised sputtering come over the PA system as she easily accessed the command list for the vault.

“Hey, what do you think you’re-”

“Relax, I’m a survivor from Vault 111,” she said.  “My name is Rose Hayes.  I’m here looking for my family.”

“Vault 111? How is that even possible?”  There was silence for a couple of beats.  “Rose Hayes… your files are still in our system.  Come on in; the Overseer will definitely want to speak with you, if you are who you say you are.”

The pneumatics hissed as the giant cog-shaped door began to open.  Rose unhooked her Pip-boy and caught Hancock watching her with his head slightly cocked to the side.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard your last name before,” he said thoughtfully.  “Guess it never occurred me to ask.”

“Honestly, it never seemed important out here,” Rose replied, stepping forward as the metal walkway extended to meet them.  “And it was just another reminder that I was- am- a widow.  My maiden name was Alexander.”

“Alexander suits you better.”

She snorted.  “Of course it does.”

The bright fluorescent lights were almost blinding as they walked into the now-open vault; both travelers shied back for an instant, unused to the artificial glow.  Several vault-dwellers dressed in the signature blue jumpsuits were waiting for them apprehensively at the entrance; the one standing behind the terminal desk was the man Rose assumed she had been speaking with.  He carried a pistol and a baton that told her he was likely the security detail.  None of the other vault-dwellers appeared to be armed.  He was the first to approach them, eyeing their shotguns carefully.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave your weapons here,” he said, attempting an authoritative tone.  “Along with the guard dog.”

“And I’m going to have to ask you to go to hell,” Rose replied cheerfully.  “Our weapons stay with us.  So long as you don’t try anything, they won’t be used on you.”

The man balked, clearly taken aback by her blatant refusal, and tried again.  “It’s nothing personal, but we don’t know either of you; the safety of our people takes priority over anything else.  We’re already taking a big risk letting you in here.”

Rose tapped her Pip-boy.  “You couldn’t keep me out even if you wanted to.  You’ve got Vault-Tec to thank for that.”

“We ain’t here to cause harm,” Hancock said, his raspy voice taking on a reassuring, friendly tone.  “Wouldn’t be standin’ here talking if we were.”

“I really must insist-”

“You can relax, Jordan.”  A man appeared from around the corner, presumably where the elevators were.  He might’ve cut an impressive figure if it weren’t for the thin, sallow appearance gained from spending most of his life underground.  “The gentleman is right.  If their aim was to cause destruction, they would have started firing long ago.”

“You must be the Overseer,” Rose said.

The man nodded.  “Overseer Matthews, at your service.  Jordan here tells me that you’re a survivor from Vault 111?”  Rose nodded.  “According to our logs, that vault ceased reporting nearly two hundred years ago.  Unlike your companion there, you don’t appear to be a ghoul, so either you’re lying, or you’ve got an extremely interesting story to tell.”

“I was one of the cryo subjects,” Rose explained, and comprehension passed over the expressions of every vault-dweller in the room.  “From what I understand, a lack of supplies and general mutiny led to the original vault-dwellers’ deaths shortly after the bombs fell.  The tanks and life support systems stayed online until a little over a year ago.  I was the only one of the test subjects to survive.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Matthews said, and he looked it.  Then he ruined it by continuing, “So much potential data… wasted.  Though I must say that it is scientifically fascinating that you not only woke out of cryo sleep, but that you survived in the wasteland long enough to come find us.  You must be an extraordinary specimen.”

“Human, not specimen,” Rose corrected tersely.  “Every one of those individuals that Vault-Tec tricked into entering those pods was a _person_ , not a lab rat.”

“Of course, of course,” Matthews backtracked.  “I never meant to imply that they weren’t.  You’ll have to forgive me; after a lifetime spent running experiments, sometimes all one tends to see is data.”  Clearly trying to change the subject, he asked, “You mentioned to Jordan that you were here looking for your family?  Do you have reason to believe that you’re related to one of our residents?”

“One of your ‘subjects,’ actually.  Possibly two.  I was told that you’re running cryogenic experiments like the one in my vault.  I thought that… well, I was hoping that perhaps my mother or sister might have made it here before the bombs fell.”

Matthews eyes widened.  “Really?  Now that _is_ interesting.”  He moved over to the security terminal and began typing.  “What might their names be?”

“Cara and Janet Alexander.”  She shifted nervously, her chest suddenly tight.  Dogmeat whined quietly and nudged her hand with his nose, worried by her tension.

“Let’s see here…” Matthews’ eyes scanned across the computer screen, searching intently.  Then he started with an excited shout.  “Aha!  Yes, I do have files for one Cara Alexander here.  Age 21 at time of entry, Caucasian female in good health.  One Rose Hayes listed as a living relative also recruited by Vault-Tec.”  His enthusiasm faded slightly as he continued reading.  “Also listed is one Janet Alexander… approached by Vault-Tec, but refused to enroll for vault habitation.”  He glanced up at Rose.  “I’m so sorry about that.”

Rose only nodded, not quite able to speak.  She had been right; her sister had made it to the vault, and was still alive.  Her baby sister was waiting in cryo stasis below their feet at that very minute.

“Hey, sorry about your mom,” Hancock said to her, jerking her out of her mute shock.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a shrug.  “I always figured she’d be a long shot.  But Cara…” She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.  “My sister is still alive.  Cara is still alive.”

Matthews watched them, arms crossed.  “I’m guessing you’ll be demanding I release her to you?”

“Could force you to release every last of them,” Hancock said challengingly.  “How many people you got down there, anyway?  It ain’t right, keeping people in a freezer against their will.”

Matthews arched an eyebrow.  “Actually, all of them gave informed consent before entering cryo stasis.  Unlike Vault 111, which I understand was designed to test cryogenics on blind subjects, _our_ vault was intended to work with the full cooperation of everyone involved.  Vault-Tec explained the parameters of the experiment to each subject beforehand.”

Rose frowned.  “Really?  I have a hard time believing that my sister agreed essentially kill herself for an indeterminate length of time in the name of science.”

“We may have… extended the reach of the experiment beyond the original time limit,” Matthews admitted.  “The instructions at first were to keep the subjects frozen until such time as the surface became re-habitable.   But the system proved to be extraordinarily successful, with no subjects showing any signs of brain damage or tissue decay.  This encouraged subsequent overseers to see how far we could take it, as it were.”  His expression became defensive.  “We found little harm in doing so, as anyone participating in the cryo experiment would have no way of determining the passage of time.  When they wake up, it will be as though moments have passed.  And perhaps they can wake up to a world a little more civilized and rebuilt than what we currently have to offer.”

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but found she had nothing to say in response.  As flawed as the rest of the argument was, she had pondered over that last bit herself.  And truthfully, as much as she disliked the thought of others being trapped in cryo, she didn’t want to start a battle with an entire vault for them.  She had come for her sister, not to free a bunch of pre-war strangers who would just as quickly die out in the wasteland.  She would never be able to take care of all of them, even if she did manage to see them safely into the Commonwealth, and she knew it.

So instead, she drew her shoulders back, and tried to summon the cool authority she had practiced so much in her training to be a lawyer.

“If my sister is in cryo, then that means that she has been rendered incapable of making medical decisions for herself, which includes prolonged participation in this experiment,” Rose said, her tone crisp.  “And as I am her only living kin, that responsibility then falls to me.  Vault-Tec, as despicable as most of their research was, was bound by the same code of ethics as any other medical facility in this country… which means that so long as my requests are reasonable and made with the best interest of the patient in mind, you must abide by them.  As her medical proxy, I am demanding that she be released from the program into my custody.”

Matthews stared at her for a moment, digesting her words, and then exhaled in a huff.  “Oh, very well.  I suppose it would be the right thing to do, after all.  Though about the dog…”

Dogmeat growled, and Rose shook her head resolutely.  “The dog stays with me.  End of discussion.”

“I wouldn’t push it,” Hancock said in a friendly warning.  “Pretty sure the last person who told her ‘no dogs allowed’ ended up with a gun barrel shoved down his throat and a few new bite marks on his legs.”  Dogmeat bared his teeth demonstratively, a low rumble still emanating from his throat.

“Wastelanders clearly don’t expend any extra energy on courtesy,” Matthews muttered, just loud enough for them to hear, but he relented.  “Very well.  If you’ll follow me this way…”

“So was that little speech you gave true?” Hancock asked in undertone, as Matthews gestured for them to accompany him back to the elevator.

“Bits and pieces, back when this was still the U.S. and we still had a national government,” Rose muttered.  “Without a government to enforce ethics laws, these guys aren’t obligated to do a damn thing.  But if I learned anything from my debate classes, it’s that most people won’t question you so long as you act like you know what you’re talking about.”

“And if that didn’t work?”

“Then we were going to find out how many shotgun shells it would take to change his mind.”

The layout to the rest of the vault was so eerily similar to that of Vault 111 that Rose had to check herself to keep from walking ahead of Matthews.  Her chest grew steadily tighter as they neared the cryo facility; she found herself constantly wiping her palms on her worn-out jeans to rid herself of the clammy sweat that persistently covered them.  She felt vaguely like she was walking in a half-dream; her mind kept layering her memories over reality, drawing pointed connections with her last few minutes in her own time.

They reached the entrance to the cryogenics room so quickly that Rose didn’t immediately realize where they were when Matthews stopped.  The overseer typed in the passcode to open the door, his fingers flitting over the keypad.  The metal doors slid open, and Rose rocked back a step as she was suddenly hit hard with a flashback.  The rows of cryo tanks looked exactly the same as it had in Vault 111, except that these were obviously still functioning and maintained.  Each one held a person, preserved so perfectly that they only appeared to be sleeping.  She could almost see Nate standing by the last tanks with Shaun bundled up in his arms, listening anxiously as the white-coated doctor explained what the tanks were “supposed” to do.

_See, Shaun?  This is our new home now.  Don’t worry, your mommy’s right here.  We’re all together; that’s all that matters._

“You still with me, Sunshine?” Hancock asked in a low voice.

“Yeah.”  Rose blinked, clearing her head.  “Just felt like I was back in 2077 for a minute there.”  She rubbed her arm, digging her nails just slightly into her skin to anchor herself in reality.  “The sooner we get out of this place, the better.”

“Right this way,” Matthews said, gesturing down the aisle.  He led them all the way down to the last couple of tanks before stopping.

“I imagine this is something you’d like to handle on your own, so I’ll step outside,” he said diplomatically.  “We’re trusting you to wake your sister and your sister alone… we can see everything through the cameras.  Please don’t do anything we’ll all regret.”

Rose rolled her eyes but nodded.  Matthews left, and she hesitantly walked up to the last tank.

A young woman rested inside.  She was a few years younger than Rose was- in her early twenties- and her hair was blonde, rather than Rose’s auburn colored locks.  In spite of these differences, the family resemblance was strong; same bone structure, same body type.  Rose put a hand up to the cold glass, staring at her sibling as though she were looking at a ghost

“Cara,” she breathed.  Seeing her sister in the flesh, an experience she once took for granted, was now surreal.  She was every bit the same girl that she was in Rose’s memories, right down to the sun-born freckles that spilled across the bridge of her nose.

“That her?” Hancock asked, studying the girl.  When Rose didn’t respond, he asked, “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” she replied finally, pulling away from the glass to type in the wakening commands on the nearby terminal.   “She would do it for me.”

“In that case, I’ll be over by the door.”  When she gave him a confused look, he shrugged.  “I ain’t denying that I’m one of the more devilishly handsome ghouls out there, but I’m still a ghoul.  How do you think you woulda reacted if you saw a mug like mine right out the gate?”

“Oh.”  She hadn’t thought about that.  Hancock had become such an integral part of her daily life that it was easy to forget that ghouls hadn’t been around before the war. 

“I mean, if you want me to stay…”

“No, you’re right,” she said, trying to smile and giving up when it felt unnatural on her face.  “It’s probably best if I speak with her alone first, anyway.  Even if she did go into this knowing what she was in for, traveling 200 years into the future is still going to be a shock.”

“Then maybe I’ll have a little chat with Mr. Overseer about the rest of these poor souls.”  He gave her a quick half-smile at her wary glance.  “Don’t worry, I won’t get us kicked out.  Probably.”

“Yeah, let’s _not_ wake my sister up to a bloodbath.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

Hancock moved away towards the door, and Rose turned back to the terminal.  Taking a breath so deep her ribs ached, she typed a few more commands into the computer and began the reanimation sequence.

* * *

**(Hancock)**

Hancock hadn’t really meant to watch as Rose woke her sister; it felt like voyeurism, looking in on a reunion that personal.  A thousand times more intimate than anything he had ever shared with another living being, Rose herself included.  She had been tight-lipped about her family during their entire journey, but he could see the anxious hope that had settled into her shoulders like lead weights.  She had even taken to murmuring her sister’s name in her sleep… never her mother’s, but that didn’t seem so weird after what he’d been told.  Some instinct told him that Rose had been afraid to share too much, as if talking about Cara or her mother would somehow jinx the whole thing and make them disappear.

But when he stepped back through the door to give her some space, he found his eyes irresistibly drawn back to the scene playing out past the glass windows.  Her sister woke quickly.  A little shaky maybe, but otherwise in full command of her faculties.  He watched as she reacted to the sight of her older sister with some surprise, though that rapidly degraded into tears as the reality of the war crashed down on her.  The young blonde sank to her knees, clutching at her chest; Rose knelt down with her, arms wrapped around her little sister with a fierce protectiveness that he had come to associate with her love for her son.  Dogmeat, ever the loyal therapy hound, wormed his way into Cara’s arms and allowed her to cling to him as she cried.

Hancock finally tore his eyes away at that point.  Though he had intellectually been able to grasp the reality of what Rose had lost, the emotional toll had eluded him more often than not.  The wasteland had hardened her long before she had stepped through the doors of Goodneighbor, had taught her that it was safer to lock up your grief inside where no one could use it against you.  But seeing her sister get hit with the knowledge that pretty much everyone she had known and loved was just – poof – gone, it made him realize just how much Rose must have had to fight past in order to survive.  And even worse, she had done a large part of it on her own.

Damned if he knew how she’d done it without wasting away into a chem addiction or staring down the wrong end of her own gun.  Not something he could’ve done, that was for sure.

It took a long time for Cara to get enough of a handle on herself to stop crying, and Hancock found himself watching again as she dried her cheeks and straightened her spine.  Once she did, she began bulleting her older sister with questions; it looked like Rose could barely get an answer out before Cara was asking something else.  The quick recovery and determination made him smirk; seemed like Cara was going to be a chip off the old block.

Figuring they were in for a lengthy talk, Hancock settled himself against the wall and lit up a cigarette, sneering at Matthews as the overseer clearly thought about chastising him for doing so.  He agreed with Rose that freeing the remaining cryo subjects wasn’t worth killing their way through a mostly-innocent vault of people, but he wasn’t entirely sold on the idea that beating Matthews into submission wasn’t the proper course of action.  Any man who was okay with using humans indefinitely as lab rats deserved a few broken bones at least.

Matthews was evidently oblivious to his distaste, because the overseer stood by him and gazed out at the two sisters with an expression of intense interest.

“Have you traveled with Mrs. Hayes long?” he asked casually.  He tapped his pen repeatedly against the clipboard in his hand, which only served to irritate Hancock further.

He regarded the overseer coolly, suspicious of his interest.  “What’s it to you?”

Matthews shrugged.  “I was curious to know how long she’s been out of cryo.  She appears remarkably well-adapted for a pre-war subj… erm, person.  Were you there when she woke?”

“No.  Didn’t have the pleasure until she’d already been out for a couple months.”

“So it’s been longer than two months?”

“Over a year, by her count.”  His dark eyes narrowed as Matthews scribbled something on a clipboard.  “She’s not one of your pet ice cubes, _Overseer._ ”  The disdain dripped from the title as he spat it out.  “I don’t think she’s gonna like it all that much that you’re prying into her business.  Don’t care for it much myself.”

“Just harmless observations, nothing more,” Matthews said defensively.  “It’s not as though I intend to throw her back into cryo against her will.  We’re not monsters here.”

Hancock snorted.  “You sure about that?”

Matthews flushed, and quickly changed the subject.  “What do you intend to do with young Miss Alexander?  The wasteland is a rough place.”

“That’s fuckin’ putting it mildly.”

“All the more reason to ask.”  Matthews even managed to arrange his face in a way that could’ve passed for concern.  “For all that you seem to distrust us, our vault here is a safe place.  Not a single unnatural death or break-in… until Mrs. Hayes showed up with her Pip-boy, that is.  We have enough supplies to keep us all well-fed and in good health.  Warm beds, a sense of purpose and security.  Mrs. Hayes and her sister would both be quite welcome here.”

Hancock’s thin lip curled over his teeth, not missing the implication that he was not to be accepted.  Making a bit of a show of it, he pulled his knife out from where he had tucked it between his hip and the tattered American flag he still sported.  Matthews’ eyes immediately became glued to the serrated weapon, watching as he flipped it back and forth over his fingers.

“I think she’d say she’s already spent enough time underground,” he remarked, casual as anything as he expertly twirled the blade in the air.

He was seriously considering stabbing the overseer and calling it a day.  Rose would be mad, sure, but she’d get over it.  He was still weighing the pros and cons when the automated doors slid open.  Rose took in the scene at a glance and gave him a stern glare, but Cara took one look at the knife and blanched.

“Rose, he’s got a knife!” she shrieked out, yanking her sister backwards. 

Hancock groaned to himself and reluctantly slipped the blade away.  So much for first impressions.  Dogmeat cocked an ear towards the young girl as though evaluating what had frightened her, and then seemed to shrug as he padded over to Hancock’s feet to settle himself down with a doggy sigh.  Hancock rubbed the German Shepherd between the ears; he couldn’t blame the mutt for needing a break.

“Rose, that man _has a knife,_ ” Cara was saying to her sister, not understanding the general lack of concern.

“And _I_ have a shotgun,” Rose replied pointedly.  “That’s Hancock; I told you, he’s a friend.  The last person he’d use that on is you.  I promise.”

Hancock shook off his irritation with the overseer and amped up the charm, tossing a friendly wink Cara’s way.  “She’s right, kid; you don’t gotta worry about me.  I was just havin’ a chat with Mr. Overseer here.”

“I can see that,” Rose said, a hint of that General-of-the-Minutemen tone sliding into her words.  She arched an eyebrow at him and he held up his open palms innocently… not that she’d believe him for a second.

“I was just expressing to your _companion_ that it may be best for the two of you to stay here, in Vault 124,” Matthews said, edging away from Hancock and towards the (relative) safety of the two women.  “We have the space and the supplies to-”

“No, thank you.”  Rose cut him off, and Hancock grinned as she redirected her ire.  “I have a home, and I believe my sister has spent more than enough time in your care as it is.”

Matthews withered, but made one last attempt.  “Would you at least allow our doctor to administer a brief examination?  The data would be invaluable, and we would of course treat any outstanding conditions that we-”

* * *

“That was a hell of a right hook, Sunshine.”

Rose snorted, wincing as she flexed the fingers on her hand.  “Thought it would feel better than it did.  I might’ve fractured my knuckle on that one.”

They were climbing the steps back up into the administrative building, with the cog door of the vault locking resolutely shut behind them.  For all that talk of being welcome and wanting Rose and Cara to stay, the vault-dwellers were certainly quick with the armed escorts after Rose knocked Matthews back on his ass with a well-placed blow to the jaw.

“Was that really necessary?” Cara asked, brow pinched.  “He was offering you free medical treatment.”

“He was offering for a doctor to gather all of our physical and personal information to further their research,” Rose corrected her. 

“Is that really so bad?”

“Hey, she could’ve shot him,” Hancock said, still grinning as he replayed the scene in his mind.

Cara glanced over at him and then almost as quickly looked away.  She was on the other end of the spectrum when it came to dealing with ghouls; rather than openly stare, she seemed to think that looking at him for too long might offend him.  He didn’t doubt that Rose had counseled her beforehand.  Though unlike most, he got the sense that her nervousness came from a genuine desire to avoid being rude; normally when people avoided looking at him, it was because they were afraid or disgusted (or some combination of the two).  Her shoulders sagged with weariness, but she walked alongside her sister and Dogmeat with a confident gait, and didn’t shy away if he happened to accidentally brush against her.  So, if nothing else, she was definitely not afraid.

“I’m going to hope that you’re joking,” she said in response to him, and her tone was so like Rose’s that he had to look over to double check who was speaking.  “Rose, he _is_ joking, right?”

Rose hummed noncommittally as they reached the ground floor.  She led the party to the exit, slowing for a few paces when Cara stared at the disrepair and filth of a building that had probably been brand-spanking-new when she had last seen it.  She peered through the windows to check for any unfriendly surprises that might have popped up in their absence, and shouldered her shotgun with a familiarity that caused Cara to frown.

“Welcome to the wasteland,” she said wryly, as she pushed open the doors to the cool twilight air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if some of you find this chapter a little tedious/ boring... I promise things will start picking up now that Rose has recovered her sister. Just had to get that out of the way first.
> 
> I originally wrote this chapter with a full dialogue happening between Rose and Cara to introduce her character/ bring Cara up to speed on what she's facing in the post-apocalypse, but since this chapter is already rather long I decided to omit it (and I imagine that none of you need to skim through yet another explanation of the wasteland and Rose's escapades thus far). The next chapter will introduce you more fully to her character, and in hopefully much more entertaining ways than what I had first planned.
> 
> As always, feedback/comments/kudos are all greatly encouraged and appreciated! I love hearing from you guys <3.


	4. Chapter 4

**(Rose)**

Cara didn’t say much in reaction to the destruction that stretched out before her.  For a few moments she gazed at the crumbling memories of her campus, expression melancholy as her eyes picked through once-familiar landmarks that now sat in a state of increasing decay.  A small pack of feral dogs darted across what used to be lawns a few hundred yards ahead and she jumped, flinching back towards her sister and Dogmeat.

“Don’t worry about them,” Rose consoled her.  “They’re hungry, not stupid.  Most wild dogs know a gun when they see one.”

“And you’re sure you know how to use that thing?” Cara asked doubtfully.  “You’ve never shot a gun in your life, unless Nate taught you before…”

Hancock laughed.  “You kidding?  That hardware ain’t just a fashion choice, kid.  Sometimes I feel like Rose can’t go a day without shovin’ her gun up someone’s-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re next,” Rose warned, and Hancock grinned at her cheekily.

“That a promise, Sunshine?”

Rose tried to look stern, but a smile fought to break through.  “We should get going.  It’s going to be dark in a couple hours… and no offense, Cara, but I’ll feel a lot better about staying out past sunset when we’ve gotten you some decent armor and a weapon.  Actually…”  She tilted her head, evaluating Cara in her blue vault suit, and began loosening the ties on her own armor.

“Hey, I like where this is going,” Hancock teased, earning him an eye-roll from Rose in response.

“Take these for now,” she said to Cara, throwing the battle-scarred leather her way.  “The city was pretty quiet when we came through, but you’re way more likely to get shot than I am.  Especially in that suit.”  She crinkled her nose.  “The first thing we’re going to have to do is get you some new clothes.  That blue stands out like a sore thumb.”

“You could always trade her _your_ outfit,” Hancock suggested in an innocent tone.  “If you’re so concerned about her safety, that is.”

Rose arched an eyebrow at him.  “Either you’re suggesting that I walk back to the Commonwealth naked-”

“You can’t know you like it until you try it, right?”  He winked.

“-or you’re trying to get me into that skin-tight suit so that you can stare at my ass the entire way.  The answer is no.”

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”  He cheekily patted Rose’s behind when she bent over to undo her shin guards, and ducked swiftly out of the way when she used it to swing at his head.

Cara watched the exchange with her eyebrows raised.  “You know, it could be that I’m a little out of touch after being a popsicle for a couple centuries, but it sort of seems like you two are…”

“Flirting?” Rose asked, at the same time Cara suggested “Fucking?”

“ _Cara!_ ”

“She’s not wrong,” Hancock said, looking extremely amused.  “Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ modest on me just because she’s your sister.”

“I’m only a little dismayed to find out that Vault-Tec didn’t happen to install a filter between her brain and her mouth when they put her on ice,” Rose retorted, though her cheeks were flushed red.

Cara bristled.  “Like you were any better before Mr. Uptight-Soldier-Man came marching into your life…”

Rose reached out to help her with the chest piece and tightened it a little more than was necessary.  “Articulate insult for a lit major.  Let’s leave my _late_ husband out of this, okay, Cara?”

Cara opened her mouth to snap back, but Hancock smoothly stepped between them and eased Rose back a foot or two.

“As much as I’d love to see a cat fight between the two of you, this is going to be a damn long walk if I have to be the voice of reason the entire time,” he pointed out.  “And we’ve only got about three hours until dark, at best, right?”

Rose made an irritated noise in her throat, but relented.  “You’re right.  I want to get back to the Tower before nightfall, see if they’re willing to trade with us and maybe take us in until morning.”

“The Tower?” Cara asked, directing her question to Hancock as Rose moved forward with Dogmeat to lead them back to downtown.  She was still staring daggers at her sister’s back.

He nodded.  “Yeah, a settlement about ten or so miles from here.  Shit sense of humor, but they didn’t try to shoot me on sight, so they’re probably okay.”

Cara frowned.  “Why would they try to shoot you?”

He gave her a wry glance.  “You don’t gotta play dumb just to be polite, kid.”

“A lot of people are prejudiced against ghouls,” Rose explained over her shoulder, having overheard the question.  “I told you a bit about that back in the vault, remember?”

“Yeah, but you never said anything about people _shooting_ at them.”

Hancock shook his head.  “You’re in for a rough awakening, sister.”  To Rose, he said, “Were you that naïve coming out of the vault too?”

“I’m not naïve!” Cara objected.

“I didn’t get a chance to be,” Rose replied, ignoring her sister’s offended grumbling.  “Those raiders out in Concord and that friendly little deathclaw set me straight real fast.”

“What in the hell is a deathclaw?” Cara demanded.

“Exactly as much fun as it sounds.”  Rose hugged her shotgun a little tighter to her body, as though talking about the creatures would make one magically appear.  “And if there is a merciful God in heaven, then you’ll never have to find out for yourself.”

* * *

Night had already fallen by the time they had reached the Tower, and rarely had Rose felt so relieved to see a host of turrets and guards staring them down.  They would have been there sooner, but the damn seasons moved along more quickly than her sister did… and with less complaining.  Cara was whining about being tired before they had even gone halfway, and didn’t seem to grasp to necessity of moving quietly in strange territory.  By some miracle, they had made the journey without incident, but between hissing at Cara to shut up every few minutes and battling the paranoia that came with being in an unfamiliar place, Rose felt ready to tear someone’s head off.  She fidgeted restlessly as a couple of the guards came forward to meet them near the main doors; one of them was the same man from earlier, and he blinked in surprise as he recognized the travelers.

“Found the vault, I take it?” he asked, inclining his head briefly towards Cara.  “I’m surprised you got one of them to follow you out.  Reclusive bunch, normally.” 

“We were hoping you’d have some people who are willing to trade a few things, and maybe let us rent a couple of beds for the night,” Rose explained, too tired to get into about the vault. 

Both guards studied them a little closer, searching them for unknown signs of criminal proclivities.  But after a brief moment, the first one nodded in approval.  Evidently two ex-vault-dwellers, a ghoul, and a dog- even as well armed as they were- weren’t too big of a threat.  The fact that they were all nearly ready to drop from exhaustion helped to minimize the threat, too.  He waved them on forward with a somewhat bored warning to behave, lest they find themselves thrown back out or shot.  Rose acknowledged the warning with nothing more than a nod; that was pretty standard, no matter what settlement you visited. 

The ground floor was a maze, each room housing a trader or a merchant offering goods and services.  Settlers still milled around, chatting or shopping; the night was early yet.  A few of them watched the trio as they entered, their eyes latching on to Cara’s blue vault suit with interest.  Uncomfortable with drawing so much attention, Cara stepped closer to Rose; her straight posture tried to send the message that she was unbothered, but she had an arm wound tightly around her sister’s that stated otherwise.  Dogmeat stayed close at her other side, patiently keeping watch and uttering little warning growls anytime a settler drew too close to the young blonde.

Rudimentary signs pointed the direction to traders with different goods.  Rose made a beeline for a shop that was ironically titled “Wasteland Styles,” assuming that it would be their best bet to get Cara into something a bit less obvious and more protected.

“You ladies go on ahead,” Hancock said, hanging back.  “I’ll see about getting our little vaultie something she can shoot without falling back on her ass.”  He gave Cara a quick wink as she scowled at him.

“Take Dogmeat with you,” Rose said.  She clucked her tongue when Dogmeat whined.  “Hush.  I’ve got Cara to help me keep an eye out.”

“Come on, pooch,” Hancock said, nudging the German Shepherd with his leg.  “The sooner we get some firepower, the sooner we’re both back under the watchful eye of your mistress.”

Rose watched them walk off, unaware that her sister’s eyes were on her.

“You care about him a lot,” Cara remarked, as they walked into the apartment-turned-shop.

“Hard not to with that cute furry face and those big ears.”

“I was talking about Hancock.”

Rose’s eyes flicked back towards her before staring ahead again.  “Yeah, I know you were.”  She walked up to the makeshift storefront, set up at what used to be a kitchen counter, and gave a friendly smile to the shopkeep.  “Hey there!  Was hoping you might have something that’d fit my sister here?”

The woman gave them an evaluating look, eyes shrewd and careful.  “I haven’t seen you in the Tower before.  Where are you from?”

“On our way back to the Commonwealth,” Rose answered genially, letting her natural charm put the trader at ease.  “Just passing through for the night, looking to resupply.”

The trader nodded her head at Cara.  “Vault-dweller?”  Her eyes caught the Pip-boy on Rose’s wrist and her eyebrows went up.  “Both of you?”

“Technically, I guess,” Cara said with a shrug.  “My sister insists that this jumpsuit paints a target on my back.”

“Well she ain’t wrong, honey,” the shopkeep agreed.  “A group of raiders would see that blue and snatch you up quicker than a bag full of caps.  Though speakin’ of caps…” She rubbed her fingers together.  “You can pay, right?”

Rose shook her bag, jingling the caps inside.  “We’re covered.”

The shopkeep brightened at the sound, and disappeared beneath the counter to rummage around.  She emerged a moment later with two bundles of clothing and looked expectantly at Rose.

“You oughta get something new on your back too, sweetheart, or you’ll freeze before you reach the border.”

Rose picked at the thinning fabric of her flannel shirt and grimaced.  “I suppose you’re right.  How much?”

“Fifty caps.”

That was an awful lot for hand-me-down clothing that was barely a step up from rags, but Rose was in no mood to haggle.  She counted out the caps and drew out an extra fifty as well.

“I’ll double it if you can get us some armor that’s lightweight and easy to move in,” she added.  “We’re going to be doing a lot of walking… don’t want to be bogged down with a bunch of scrap metal.”

The shopkeep handed over a mixed set of leather and combat armor, and pointed them in the direction of the apartment’s bathroom to change, with a stern reminder not to steal anything on the way.  Cara examined her new outfit skeptically once the door was closed behind them… a long-sleeved cotton v-neck, surplus-y cargo pants, and a canvas jacket.

“Wasteland Styles, my ass,” she muttered.  “There’s nothing stylish about this crap.”

Rose chuckled.  “Sorry.  They didn’t make designer clothes strong enough to survive a nuclear apocalypse.”

“Just my luck.”

Rose shrugged out of her flannel and pulled her tank top over her head.  Cara inhaled sharply behind her and she paused, looking up at the mirror to see her sister staring at her bare skin.

“Rose, what the hell happened?”

Rose twisted to look at her back.  Long scars from various lacerations were scattered along her muscles, along with several areas that were clearly healed bite marks.  Her right shoulder sported a slightly puckered circle where Sinjin had shot her.  Suddenly self-conscious, she rubbed her arms, feeling the burns that were just beginning to fade from her kidnapping, and the rough rings where the chains had dug into her wrists.  A weird sort of shame began to build in the pit of her stomach as the fresh perspective of her sister brought bad memories crawling back to the surface of her thoughts.

Cara had gone pale, her eyes tracking the path of every mar in Rose’s skin.  “Is this world really that brutal?”

“Parts of it are,” Rose said, quickly pulling on her new shirt and averting her eyes to the ground.  “Most people live a relatively peaceful life though, Cara.  I choose to put myself into a life of violence.”

“Because you’re looking for Shaun?”  When Rose nodded, Cara sighed.  “Every time you or Hancock talk about shooting someone or whatever, I keep hoping that it’s all some big joke.  I don’t know that I can… do that.  Shoot to kill someone.”

“You’ll feel differently when your gun is the only thing that might keep you breathing,” Rose said.  She caught the harshness in her words and took a deep breath, reaching out to smooth Cara’s hair back from her face.  “Listen, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.  I’ve gotten beat up because I go looking for trouble… Picking fights has become something of a profession of mine.”

“Is that how you met Hancock?”

Rose blinked, a tad startled, and then gave her a wry look.  “You’re awfully interested in my relationship with him.”

Cara shrugged.  “I’m your sister.  I’m supposed to be nosy.”  She smiled.  “It seems like he makes you happy.  Though I’m kind of surprised that you fell for him in the first place.  He’s, like, the exact opposite of who Nate was.  And that whole zombie look doesn’t bother you?”

“Ghouls might’ve freaked me out a little when I first woke up in this place, yeah,” Rose confessed.  “But I’ve seen smooth-skinned humans who have scared me a lot worse.”

“So how did you meet?” Cara asked again persistently, as they continued to change into their new-ish clothing. 

“He’s the mayor of a town called Goodneighbor, set up in the heart of what used to be Boston,” Rose explained.  “It’s a rough place, but there are some really good people there.  I showed up looking for answers about Shaun, and Hancock… let’s just say he made a first impression that’s hard to forget.”  The corners of her mouth hitched up at the memory.  “Anyway, I got myself into a little trouble and he could have justifiably killed me- or at the very least had me beaten within an inch of my life.  But he didn’t.”

Cara’s eyes grew wide.  “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nearly stole quite a lot of caps and demolished the foundation to his storehouse.  To be fair, I hadn’t realized it was _his_ storehouse until his second-in-command had a machine gun pointed at my face.”

Cara had stopped moving, caught up in the story.  “No shit.  What happened then?”

“I, uh… I took care of the person who had lied about who we were robbing, and apologized to Hancock in person.”  Rose averted her gaze and blushed when Cara narrowed her eyes disapprovingly at the mention of killing someone.  “I was still pretty convinced that I wouldn’t be walking out of that meeting under my own power.  But we ended up talking.  He mentioned wanting to get out of town for a while… and I don’t know why I did it, but I told him to come with me.  The rest is pretty much history.”

“You trusted him not to fuck you over, just like that?”

Rose shrugged.  “He’s got a sort of personal creed against hurting innocent people, so I didn’t think he’d kill me in my sleep or anything.  And at the time, I really needed the backup.  Wandering the Commonwealth on your own isn’t for the faint-hearted.”

“What made you fall in love with him?”

Rose gave her sister an exasperated look.  “Are we going to play Twenty Questions for the rest of the night?”

Cara grinned.  “Come on!  You _never_ talked with me about you and Nate, and I haven’t seen you in months.”  She paused, frowning.  “Or… how long has it been?  How long have you been out here?”

“About a year.”  Rose shrugged.  “I don’t really keep track of the days anymore.”

Cara shook her head.  “Geez.  I can’t even wrap my head around it.  It still feels like 2077 to me… aside from the obvious, I mean.”  She chuckled a little nervously.  “I kinda feel like I should be freaking out more?”

Rose squeezed her hand sympathetically.  “It’ll take a little time for it all to sink in.  I dealt with the change in waves over the first few months.”

Her sister nodded resolutely.  “Right.”  Then she brightened, seeming to forcibly change her train of thought.  “So about Hancock…”

Rose groaned.  “Still?”

“I want to know!”  Cara bumped her with her hip.  “You can’t just show up out of nowhere with a new guy and not expect me to be interested.  So weird zombie fetish aside, how did you two get from… travel partners, I guess?  To like _actual_ partners.”  She tilted her head, thinking.  “He’s got that whole charisma thing going on, I guess.  Silver tongue and all that.” 

Rose sighed.  “Yes, he’s charming.  But it’s more than that.”  Her brow furrowed as she tried to find the right words.  “I guess… it’s a bunch of things.  He makes me laugh; he’s one of the only people left who does.  And it might not seem like it at first, but he can be very kind.  He’s helped to hold me together through things that would have sent most other people running for the hills.”  Her voice turned soft.  “I owe him my life and my sanity many, many times over.”

“That’s sweet.”  Cara’s lips pulled up mischievously.  “And you’re totally hot for that zombie bod, too.”

“ _Cara_!”

Cara wagged a finger in Rose’s face.  “Don’t deny it, sis.  I had nothing to do but watch you two during that long-ass hike.  You check him out like, _at least_ every five minutes.”

Rose flushed.  “What’s your point?”

“Nothing.  It’s kind of cute, actually.”  She watched her sister’s face, expression turning thoughtful.  “Figures that it would take the end of the world for you to find a decent guy.”

Rose chuckled.  “I’ve told myself that more times than I can count.”

Just then, the raised voice of the trader filtered through the door.  “Hey, no dogs allowed in here!  I deal with enough flea-bitten animals as it is!”

Rose rubbed her eyes tiredly.  _So much for that moment_.  After gathering up their discarded clothes into her pack, she stepped back out into the main apartment, Cara trailing behind.  Hancock was leaning in the front doorway, looking none too inclined to interfere as Dogmeat playfully attempted to lick the trader’s face and hands.  Rose gave a sharp whistle and Dogmeat bounded over to her side, ears flopping adorably as he looked up at her with his head cocked.

“That your dog?” the shopkeeper asked irritably.

“I’ll get him out,” Rose assured her, taking hold of the chain that served as Dogmeat’s collar and leading him towards the door.

“Oh, he just wanted to say hi, didn’t you, boy?” Cara cooed.  Dogmeat’s tail whipped from side to side enthusiastically.

“I’ll never understand what it is with you women and that mutt,” Hancock mused, slipping an arm around Rose’s waist as they exited back into the hallway.

“He’s fluffy, he does what he’s told, and he’s down to cuddle without trying to get into your pants,” Cara replied archly. 

Hancock laughed.  “Well, damn.  I can only make one of those three things happen on a good day.”  To Rose, he said, “Spoke with a couple of natives.  Looks like there’s beds to rent up on the sixth floor, along with one of their bars.”

The elevators (much to Cara’s dismay) weren’t working… evidently the settlers didn’t want to waste precious power on a luxury, choosing instead to funnel electricity to whatever lighting that still worked and the turrets that could be heard humming through the walls.  From what they could tell as the ascended farther up the building, most of the floors were residential, with a couple dedicated to commerce… though judging by the lack of noise, most business took place on the bottom floor.

A drunk stumbled down the stairs as they neared the sixth floor, reeking sourly of body odor and liquor.  He paused as he passed by the two women, the cogs in his inebriated brain turning with some difficulty.

“Hey Mr. Ghoul, how much for the blonde?” he slurred, using his half-empty bottle to point at Cara.

Cara bared her teeth.  “You wish, creep.”

“Ain’t that kinda party, brother,” Hancock said.  He casually pulled Cara a couple of steps back, allowing Rose to move forward in front of her.

The drunk grumbled in disappointment, and Rose glared at him.  “She’s not for sale.  Go sleep it off.”

The drunk swayed on his feet, leering.  “Fine.  How much for _you_ , then?”

Rose turned away, not intending to dignify that with a response, but she jumped when she felt him pinch her ass.  In an instant she wheeled on him, ready to break his fingers, but Hancock had already slammed him against the wall with his knife at the drunk’s throat.

“That’s about enough outta you, brother,” he growled, pressing the blade against his skin hard enough to draw a sliver of blood.  “Now, I’m a little too tired to add one wasted prick to my body count for the day, so I’ll let you off with a warning.  But if you so much as _look_ at either one of these women again, I’m going to see how long it takes me to carve the skin off your body, and then I’m going to let our guard dog finish you off.”  Dogmeat snapped his teeth together loudly, less than an inch from the man’s hand.  “Got it?”

“S-sorry,” the man stuttered.  Hancock released him and he all but ran down the rest of the stairs, stumbling down half a flight in his hasty retreat.

Rose smirked.  “Now that was enough to even make _me_ shiver.  I think you just scared a few years off of that man’s life.”

Cara exhaled, as though she had been holding her breath.  “I’m just glad you didn’t really stab him.”

“Definitely thought about it,” Hancock confessed, leaning into Rose as she slipped underneath his arm.  “But I figured it might not go over too well with the locals.”

“Thanks for saving me the trouble,” Rose said.  She kissed him, giving a pleased hum when he held her tighter.

Behind them, Cara groaned.  “Thanks for defending my honor and all, but would you save that until I’m not around?”  She prodded Dogmeat to follow her and walked out onto the floor.  “Come on, Dogmeat.  I definitely need a drink if I’m going to deal with a couple of bloodthirsty lovebirds.”


	5. Chapter 5

They set out early the next morning.  Rose would’ve had them gone by the crack of dawn, but Cara had other ideas.  Hancock slipped out into the hallway for a Jet break when what had started as tired grumbling quickly evolved into feminine snarls, followed by the crash of nearby objects being flung across the room.

“Cara, get your _lazy ass out of bed!_ ”

“We walked for ten miles yesterday!  Are you _insane_!?  Go back to sleep!”  There was a thump, a sharp yelp, and then an infuriated screech.  “ _What the hell is your problem?!_ ”

“I will drag you down the stairs by your hair, Cara, I swear to God!” 

“I’d like to see you try!”

There was a crash of something shattering against the wall, and Dogmeat darted out the doorway to wait at Hancock’s feet, looking harried.

“You gave up too, huh, pooch?” Hancock asked, and Dogmeat huffed in response.  “Think we might be a little out of our depth with these two.”

So it was that about a half hour later they were finally back out on the road, though Rose had gotten so irritated that she left with Dogmeat to scout ahead. Splitting up had not traditionally worked in their favor, but Hancock knew it’d be best to let her cool off; with any luck she’d find a nest of molerats or something to vent her aggression on.  Cara sulked for the first few minutes, but was distracted from her bad mood when he lightly tossed her a 10mm and a leather shoulder bag filled with ammo and a few other necessities.

“That should do pretty well for you right now,” he said.  “We’ll see about gettin’ you an upgrade when we get back to the Commonwealth, if you decide you want something a little more lethal.”

Cara held the gun gingerly, like it would suddenly come alive and bit her.  “Where did you guys get the money… err, the caps… for all this stuff?”

“Caps ain’t something I’ve had to worry about for a few years now,” he replied.  “And your sister usually gets paid by settlements looking for her help… merc stuff mostly.”

Cara’s gaze dropped to her hands, where she picked absently at her nails.  “Is that how she got all those scars?”

“Some of them.”

“Those are restraint marks on her wrists, aren’t they?”  Hancock’s step faltered and Cara nodded, her lips pressing together tightly.  “I learned a thing or two peeking at case files Rose was studying when she wasn’t looking.  What happened to her?”

“I think that’s a story best left to her to tell, kid.”  On a whim, he added, “You oughta cut her a little slack, though.  She risked a lot to come out here and find you.”

Cara sighed.  “Yeah, I know.  Though it’s not like any of this has been easy for me, either.  I feel like my head’s been spinning in a million different directions since I stepped out of that cryo tank, and Rose just expects me to… I don’t know, push it all aside?  Pretend it doesn’t matter?  Everyone I’ve ever known is gone and…” her voice hitched, “and my whole life, everything I was working for…”

“Easy there, sister,” Hancock said, a little alarmed when Cara’s eyes began to shine with tears.  “That sorta thing weighs on Rose too, trust me.  I’ve been there to see it.”

Cara made a frustrated noise and wiped at her eyes.  “She used to talk to me, you know.  When we were younger, before she went off to college.  It’s fucking crazy that last night was the first _real_ conversation I’ve had with her in years.  We weren’t on the best of terms before the bombs fell, if you can’t tell.”

“She mentioned that.”

“Yeah.  We lost touch a little when she went to school, and then we had a couple of pretty nasty arguments when she got together with Nate.”  Cara wrinkled her nose.  “I still don’t know what she saw in the guy.”

“She doesn’t talk much about him,” Hancock said, subtly prodding her for more information.  Rose would probably kill him if she knew, but he couldn’t help but be curious.  Her marriage was one topic she persistently avoided talking about.

Cara took the bait.  “Honestly, I think she hooked up with him because he was a soldier like Dad… she expected Mom to be proud of her.  Instead Mom ended up telling her she was being stupid and that there was no future with an army guy.”  She snorted.  “So of course, what does Rose do, but go get pregnant and married.  Mom pretty much refused to talk to her anymore at that point.  I got stuck in the middle, and I don’t think Rose ever forgave me for telling her that she was settling for the wrong guy.”  She shrugged.  “It’s not like he beat her or anything really terrible, you know.  He just never seemed like a good fit for her.”

Hancock tilted his head.  “How so?”

“I don’t know… it’s just, Rose is like a freaking alpha wolf.  Like, seriously, arguing with her is like trying to wrestle a bone away from a Rottweiler or something.”

He grinned, amused.  “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“It’s what was going to make her a good lawyer.  But with Nate, it was like she was this quiet, obedient housewife all of the sudden.  She even agreed to give up her _job_ because he insisted it was his duty to provide for the family, and he thought it was better for her to be with the baby.”  Cara made a face at the thought.  “I tried to tell her how crazy that was once or twice, but she’d just insist it’d be until Shaun was old enough to go to school.  Like _that_ ever ends up being true.”

Hancock tried to reconcile Rose as she was now- often violent, sarcastic, dominant, and altogether entertaining- with the description that Cara was providing, and found he couldn’t do it.  Picturing Rose as submissive to anyone was about as easy as picturing a supermutant in high heels and a slinky cocktail dress… and about as appealing to boot.

“I guess none of that matters now, though,” Cara finished thoughtfully.

“Huh.”  Hancock pulled a tin of Mentats out of his pocket and tossed a couple back as he digested Cara’s story.  He caught the young blonde watching him skeptically and held the tin out to her in offering.

“Chems?” she asked, with a quick shake of her head.  “No thanks.  Rose is okay with you using that stuff?”

He chuckled.  “So long as I share.”

Cara froze to a dead stop, her mouth dropping open.  “What?!  _My_ sister, doing chems?”

 “That hard to believe, huh?”

“Are you kidding?  She caught me with cigarettes once when she came to visit from college and practically flayed me alive.”

At that point, the bang of a shotgun echoed from somewhere up ahead, followed by a yelled expletive.  Two more blasts quickly followed suit.

Hancock pulled up his double barrel and gestured for Cara to follow him.  “Better pull out that peashooter, kid.  Let’s go make sure your sister’s still in one piece.”

They ran ahead a few hundred yards and spotted Rose diving over the wrecked metal frame of an old car, with two feral ghouls hot on her tail.  One of them lashed out at her as she slid over the hood, clawlike nails catching her shoulder.  She landed on her feet without so much as a flinch and swung the butt of her shotgun backwards, bashing it in the face.  The feral fell back with a cry of pain, but its friend was still going strong; it clambered around the front of the car, screeching angrily.  Rose fired twice, catching it once in the head and once in the chest, and barely managed to turn her barrel on the first one as it recovered and lunged for her again.  She caught that one point-blank in the face, the force of the shot nearly decapitating it and splattering irradiated blood and viscera everywhere. 

Dogmeat trotted out from around the corner then, panting and limping on one of his front legs.  He didn’t seem to be hurt too badly, though; he wagged his tail when Rose praised him, and held obediently still as she knelt down to examine his hurt paw.  

“That the last of them?” Hancock asked as he and Cara reached them. 

Rose started, not having heard them approach and still wired from the adrenaline.  “I think so.”  She wiped the blood from her face and winced as the movement stung the wound on her shoulder.  “God, I fucking hate ferals.”  She glanced over at Cara and her eyes widened as she saw her little sister’s bloodless face.  “Uh, Cara…”

Hancock looked over and saw Cara swaying on her feet.  He caught her just as she crumpled towards the ground, her eyes rolling back into her head in a dead faint.

“Fuck,” Rose cursed.  She checked Cara’s pulse and breathing as Hancock gently scooped her up into his arms, easily bearing the weight of her small frame.

“Well, I guess it’s better that she gets over the shock now, rather than when we’re really in the middle of hell,” Rose muttered.  She began rummaging in her pack for a stimpak and some purified water.  “So, you two chat about anything interesting?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it's unclear, this chapter skips forward in time a little bit... Rose and Co. have already made it back into the Commonwealth. I chose not to write out that entire journey for the sake of brevity.

**(Rose)**

“I didn’t spend a week rescuing you just so you could get yourself killed, Cara.”

“Should’ve thought about that when you were organizing your priorities, then.  Like I’d really let you try to take on a freaking android assassin by yourself.”

Rose and Cara were rehashing the argument that they’d had about five times since leaving Sanctuary.  Rose had tried her best to convince Cara to stay behind; Sturgis and the other settlers had gone to the trouble of fixing up Rose’s old home for her, and she would have been reasonably safe there while she adjusted to life in the Commonwealth.  Cara had adamantly refused. 

Rose tried everything short of hobbling her with no success.  Even though she had been successfully surviving with Dogmeat and Hancock for months, Cara was unshakeable in her insistence to tag along.  They were now on the outskirts of Cambridge, and Rose’s tension was ratcheting higher with every step they took towards the C.I.T. ruins.

“You’re going to get in the way more than you’ll help,” Rose countered, even though she knew it was pointless.

“Then I’ll hide behind a wall and jab you with stimpaks every time you get shot,” Cara retorted smoothly.  “Just drop it already, will you?  I’m not going to leave.  And since you seem to be forgetting so often, I’m not a child, Rose.  I can handle myself.”

“You don’t even know what handling yourself means out here!” Rose clipped.

“She’s got a point, though, Sunshine,” Hancock interjected cautiously.  He had trailed behind the two women with Dogmeat for a couple of miles now, hoping they’d bicker themselves out.  As of yet, no such luck.

Rose looked back at him.  “You think she’s ready to go up against a courser?”

He shrugged.  “Haven’t really seen her in a firefight yet, but no, probably not.  I’m talkin’ about her not being a kid.  She’s old enough and smart enough to make her own decisions.”

“Thank you, Hancock,” Cara said triumphantly.

“No, she’s stupid enough to think that she won’t end up with her brains on the pavement, and young enough to mistake that for bravery,” Rose retorted.  “And you’re not helping, by the way.”

Cara yanked her sister to a stop, color blooming angrily in her cheeks.  “Why are you being so difficult?  You’ve made it out here this long, haven’t you?  If you can do it, why can’t I?  You think you’re tougher than me, is that it?”

“This isn’t a question about being tough!  I survived because I didn’t have a choice, and I’ve had to do things that you couldn’t imagine to make that happen!”  Rose was nearly shouting.  “I didn’t _want_ to become this person, Cara, and I don’t want that for you!  Is that so bad?”

“If you don’t think I can take it out here, then why did you bother coming to wake me up in the first place?” Cara asked sharply, and Rose flinched back like she had slapped her.

“It’s not that… I didn’t…”

“Whoa, ease up there, blondie,” Hancock said, pulling the younger sister back a couple of steps.  “I ain’t a shrink, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what your sister’s tryin’ to say.”

Cara shook his hand off.  “Shaun’s my nephew; I’m allowed to want to fight for him too.  And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was sitting on my ass, learning how to tend mutfruit plants or whatever, while you two were out here committing suicide via robot.”  Her green eyes were steely as she met her sister’s gaze.  “I’m not going back, I’m _going_ to help you take down this courser thing, and then I’m going to continue to help you find Shaun no matter what it takes.  And that is the _last_ that I want to hear on the matter.”

With that, she turned on her heel and continued marching down the road.  Rose stared at her back with an openmouthed expression, more than little stunned.  She and Cara had always quarreled growing up, as sisters will, but she always eventually caved to Rose’s authority as the older sibling.  It seemed that somewhere between the end of the world and waking up in Vault 124, Cara had grown a new backbone… and was unafraid of using it.

“Well, damn,” Hancock said, impressed.  “I never woulda thought that there could be two of you walkin’ around the Commonwealth, but she’s giving you a real good run for your money, love.  God help us all.”

Rose recovered herself.  “I guess being a self-sacrificing, stubborn jackass runs in our family.”  The lines in her face were still tense, but her eyes had softened somewhat, and there was an undercurrent of pride to her tone despite her effort to be dismissive.

A rumble cut through the air, and they both looked up to see yellow-gray storm clouds gathering on the horizon.  Another rad storm; it would be on them in a matter of minutes, and Rose was low on RadAway and Rad-X after their trip into the Glowing Sea.

“We need to get inside,” Rose said, shaking off the argument.

“Hey, kid!” Hancock called out to Cara.  “Better get back here and help us find some cover, unless you wanna end up looking like me!”

They ended up taking shelter in the Collegiate administrative building, which was still a couple miles from the ruins themselves.  The storm hit not long after.  The haze fogged up the windows, or what was left of them; it obscured everything outside of about ten yards, parting only in the occasional lightning strikes that left a static charge crackling on everything.  Cara stared musingly out at the storm, her eyes faraway as she lost herself in thought.

“The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, the yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes, licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,” she murmured to herself, as she drew abstract designs in the dust on the intact glass. 

“Prufrock,” Rose cited, the poetry making her pause.  “That one was always my favorite.”

Cara glanced back at her with a small, conciliatory smile.  “Yeah, I remember.”

“Who’s Prufrock?” Hancock asked as he dropped himself onto one of the worn-out old couches in the lobby, with Dogmeat leaping up nimbly beside him.

“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” Rose explained.  “It’s a poem by T.S. Eliot.  I never got into poetry much in school-”

“Heathen,” Cara interjected good-humoredly.

“- but I had to write a paper on that particular piece for an English class, and I fell in love with it.”  Rose blushed slightly. 

“You could’ve made an academic career out of studying Eliot and the rest of the Symbolists, but noooo, you had to choose the profitable job path.”  Cara grinned when Rose mimed shooting herself in the head.  “I’m gonna go check the rest of this place out, make sure we’re alone in here.  K?”

Rose started to object, but thought the better of it.  Instead, she sighed and slid her shotgun off of her shoulders, proffering it to her little sister.

“Take this, then.  At these close quarters a shotgun’s going to do you a hell of a lot more good than that pistol,” she said resignedly.  “Take Dogmeat with you.  And if you come across anything or anyone, try to come grab us first rather than open fire.  Got it?”

“Got it.”  She accepted the shotgun, paused for a moment, and then very quickly squeezed Rose in a hug before walking off.  Dogmeat stretched himself with a yawn and then padded after her, ears pricked forward attentively.

Hancock watched as Rose paced for a few moments, her eyes fixed on the empty doorway like she could protect Cara through the sheer force of her will.  She fidgeted restlessly with the pistol at her hip, flicking the safety on and off.  He finally reached out and pulled her back onto his lap when she started for the door, firmly holding her prisoner when she tried to wriggle away.

“I don’t think so, love.  Let her handle it.  She’s gonna be fine.”

Rose gave up, sinking back against him and the arm of the couch with a sigh.  “Am I that predictable?”

“ ’Fraid so.”

She dropped her head into her hands.  “I am a terrible, selfish person.”

“That makes two of us,” he joked, and Rose gave him a disparaging glance.

“I should’ve waited before getting her from the vault.”

“Why?  So you wouldn’t have some suicidal adventure for her to tag along on?”  Lightning flashed nearby, making his dark eyes glimmer underneath the brim of his hat.  “I got news for you, darlin’… don’t think she’s much of a wait-and-see type of girl.”

“But she’s still innocent,” Rose protested. “She’s still whole.  She’ll lose that the instant she has another person facing the barrel of her gun.”  She a ran hand through her tangled locks and frowned when the static from the storm made her hair crackle.  “Cara talks a big game, but she’s gentle.  She used to cry when Mom and I would get into fights because she hated seeing us mad at each other.  She tells the story of when she needed stitches from falling off her bike like it’s a Vietnam flashback.  I thought I could convince her to stay in Sanctuary and be safe… I’m so scared that I’m going to get her killed.”

“You worry too much, doll.  Your sister’s a lot like you… only it’s a lot harder to get her to shut up.”  Rose smiled in spite of herself at that.  “If she’s got half the smarts and the persistence you do, then she’s got nothing to worry about.”

Rose leaned her head against his.  “You know, for someone who’s always saying that he doesn’t know how to deal with emotions, you sure do know the right things to say an awful lot.”

“When you run your mouth all the time, I guess you’re bound to get a couple things right.”

“I still don’t believe you, you know, but it was the right thing to say.”

He laughed. “Can’t win ‘em all.”

“Uhhh… Rose?”

Rose picked her head up as she heard Cara’s voice carry tentatively through the building.  She didn’t sound frightened, but Rose felt her blood pressure spike anyway.  She got up and pulled out her pistol, with a quick gesture to Hancock for him to follow her.  The two of them walked towards the rooms at the back of the building. 

Dogmeat trotted out to meet them; he shook his head, ears flopping, and whined in a tone that was almost incredulous.  But he wasn’t growling, panicked, or injured, so it was unlikely that they had run into anything dangerous.

He led them to a back office where Rose could see Cara crouched down next to an old desk.  She was murmuring something, her eyes fixed towards the ground, and she started when she saw them enter.

“Okay, Rose, you have to promise not to be mad,” she declared preemptively, which made Rose raise her eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’s really going to put me at ease.  What’s going on back here?”

There was a scuffling sound behind the desk, and Cara’s cheeks flushed guiltily.

“Well, Dogmeat and I were looking around, and I heard something crying out…”

She bent over to gather something up in her arms.  When she straightened up again, Rose felt her heart drop like a stone into her stomach.

“Cara, _no_.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Hancock asked, as he stepped closer for a better look.

In her arms was a pint-sized, wriggling deathclaw.  It was about the size of a toddler, already with sharp, fully developed claws and teeth.  Its horns were no more than bony little bumps on its head, and its scales were still thin… not the leathery, hard-as-rock armor of an adult yet.  It growled in a tiny reptilian voice as it spotted Rose and Hancock, and clung tightly to Cara’s torso.

“He’s all alone!” Cara said defensively.  “There’s no sign of a nest or the parents anywhere.  I think he wandered in here… looks like he’s been living off of old canned food and maybe some cockroaches.  Er, I mean radroaches.”

“Cara, even if that thing is on its own, it’s going to grow up to be a ten-foot-tall bloodthirsty _dragon._ There is no way in hell we’re bringing it with us.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t hurt anybody, would you, little one?” Cara cooed, tickling the deathclaw under its chin.  It squeaked happily and wrapped its tail securely around her arm.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these that small before,” Hancock said as he moved closer.  He tentatively reached out towards it; it sniffed at his hand and bumped its snout against his fingers before withdrawing into Cara’s side.

“Oh no, don’t you go falling in love with it,” Rose cautioned him.  “I still get flashbacks of giant claws trying to disembowel me… and the sound of teeth scraping against power armor.  The answer is no.”

Cara completely disregarded her sister.  “I was thinking of calling him Rochester.  Or maybe Ichabod.”

“You’re naming it?”

“I don’t think too many people are gonna be hot on the idea of us bringing a deathclaw into their settlements,” Hancock said.  “Even a miniature one.  Still… maybe having a trained deathclaw wouldn’t be such a bad idea.  He’d put Dogmeat out of business.”

Dogmeat growled, and Hancock ruffled the fur on top of his head.

“Just kidding, pooch.  You know Rose would never trade you out.”

He huffed, clearly still offended, and went to sit at Rose’s feet.

 Rose put her hands on her hips.  “John, you know that thing’s is going to grow up to be a monster that’ll happily eat all of us as a snack.”

“Has anyone even tried to tame one before?” Cara asked.

“I knew a guy once who was convinced he could commune with animals when he was high,” Hancock said reminiscently.  “Swore up and down that he had some sorta connection with ‘em.  He and a few other junkies even went out lookin’ for a deathclaw nest once to prove it.”

Rose gave him a wry look.  “You’re not talking about yourself, are you?”

He winked.  “My animal magnetism was spent more on women than beasts in those days.”

“Was he successful?” Cara asked curiously.

“Nah.  Last I heard he and a couple of the others got torn apart by some pissed off mirelurks out by where that old amphitheater is, few hours after they left Goodneighbor.”

Rose rolled her eyes.  “That was encouraging.”

“Well, I’m keeping him,” Cara declared.  “At least until he’s big enough to survive out on his own.”

“He’ll be able to kill us long before he reaches that point, Cara.  And he’s only going to slow us down.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she replied stubbornly.  “And no he won’t.  He can already move almost as fast as Dogmeat can.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose and made a growling noise to herself.  “Fine!  But if that thing-”

“Ichabod!”

“- if Ichabod so much as snaps at any of us, he’s gone,” she warned.  “And he’s your responsibility, Cara.  I’m not going to waste extra time or ammo hunting down food for him.”

“Yes, _Mom_ ,” Cara agreed, grinning. 

“Well,” Hancock observed, as Cara gathered up the juvie reptile and headed back out to the main lobby.  “With a pet deathclaw at her heel, you’ll never have to worry about her being safe.  That thing’ll scare away supermutants, even.  Once it’s grown up, anyway.”

“If it can be tamed.”  Rose shook her head.  “I don’t think I can handle much more weirdness.  Looking after that thing might be enough to convince her to stay out of the line of fire when we find that courser, though.”

He studied her face, his expression suddenly turning grim as he contemplated the challenge ahead of them.  “You ready for that?”

“No.  But I’m ready to get my son back, and that’s close enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly working on developing Rose's and Cara's relationship n_n. I know they bicker a lot right now, but I've got some cute sister scenes planned out. Hancock and Rose get some one-on-one time coming up soon too, for those of you who are impatient for the romance portion of these stories. 
> 
> Btw, the idea of a baby deathclaw was too cute to resist. =3


	7. Chapter 7

**(Rose)**

Just like Virgil said, they were able to pick up the Courser’s signal through a classical music station on the Pip-boy’s radio.  It was nearly nightfall by the time they tracked the steady _beep, beep, beep_ to Greenetech Genetics, a huge seafoam-green monstrosity placed about a mile to the east of the C.I.T.

The coppery scent of blood was heavy when they stepped through the doors.  Fresh bodies were littered everywhere; they were all Gunners, judging by the military fatigues and assault rifles.

“Holy shit,” Hancock said as they stepped gingerly over the corpses and puddles of blood.  “These guys were fuckin’ slaughtered.”

“And one synth did all this?” Rose murmured to herself. 

Gunners were no joke, as far as enemies went… they were the most highly skilled mercenary group in the entire Commonwealth.  Even raider gangs had a tendency to avoid the places where Gunners had staked their claim.  For one synth, even one programmed to excel in combat, to take out this many of them… it was unnerving.

Rose’s head snapped up at the sound of retching.  Cara was standing in a corner by the door, doubled over and gagging.  Ichabod was huddled by her feet and cheerfully lapping up blood from the floor.

Rose’s heart sank.  She moved over to her sister to put a hand on her back.  Ichabod looked up at her curiously, and Dogmeat issued a light growl at him at though warning him to behave.

“You don’t have to keep going,” she said gently.  “It’s not going to get easier further in.”

“No.”  Cara shook her head and wiped at her mouth.  “I’m okay.  It’s just… I wasn’t expecting this, is all.  It’s kind of a lot to take in all at once.”

Rose heard a light rattling sound, and glanced over to see Hancock holding a small green bottle in his hand.  He gave her a pointed expression and she nodded.

“Hey kid, why don’t you take one of these?” he asked, tossing the bottle into Cara’s hands.  “Had some left over from my stash in Goodneighbor.  Oughta settle your stomach and dull the, uh, horror, a little bit.”

“Day-Tripper?” Cara asked as her eyes skimmed over the label.  “I know this.  It gets passed around at the frat parties a lot.”  She frowned.  “Or, it used to get passed around.”  She held it back out to him.  “No thanks.  I probably wouldn’t be able to keep it in my stomach long enough to take effect anyway.”

He took it back with a shrug.  “Suit yourself, sister.  But if you find yourself cravin’ a fix, you just let me know.”

“I will.”  She took her 10mm out of her leather bag and checked the magazine the way Rose had taught her, her hands just a little shaky.  “So we good to go?”

Rose brushed Cara’s hair back and hummed an affirmation.  “Yes.  But let’s get a few things straight before we go any further.”

“I already know-”

“First:  I am the boss right now,” Rose said, speaking over her.  Her posture had straightened and her voice became commanding.  “If I tell you to do something- even if that’s to run and leave me behind- you fucking do it, no questions asked.  This isn’t screwing around with ferals or molerats or giant bugs… these people are trained killers.  They are not going to be easily distracted, they are not likely to miss, and they aren’t going to show you mercy.  Second:  you are to stay behind me and Hancock at all times unless I tell you otherwise.”

Cara started to argue, but Hancock cut her off.  “Trust me, kid.  You don’t wanna get in between your sister and someone who’s pissed her off.”

“Keep behind cover and only shoot if you need to,” Rose continued.  “Don’t wait on using stimpaks if you get hit… you can bleed out much more quickly than you think.  And if you can’t use one yourself, yell out and one of us will do it for you.”

By now Cara was extremely pale, but she kept her chin held high.  “Okay.  Anything else?”

Rose dropped her eyes to her shotgun, loading it and chambering a round a little more aggressively than was necessary.  “Yeah.  If you get yourself hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

The courser may have made short work of the Gunners in the front, but the rest of their party was very much alive… and very pissed off.  Luckily, they were so distracted by trying to bust into the elevator for the top floor that they didn’t notice another group had come up behind them until about half of them were already dead.

Cara crouched obediently out in the hallway as Rose and Hancock picked off the remaining Gunners one by one.  Rose tried not to feel her gaze as her shotgun blew fist-sized holes through the mercs’ armor, or as she commanded Dogmeat to rip into the men her shots had crippled.

A spike of fear went through her as they ascended to the top levels of Greenetech.  Rose kept telling herself that the courser was just another faceless monster, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra, but truthfully she was scared.  The Institute didn’t play around; it would be a miracle if they all walked away from this unscathed.

They entered a large, multi-level room that had a staircase winding up several floors over their heads.  It was mostly empty, but as they neared the topmost floor voices began to echo down and become more clear.

“I’m telling the truth, I don’t know the password!”  This first voice was high-pitched, panicked.  A captive Gunner?

“No, I don’t think you are.”  The second voice was cool, emotionless, and dispassionate.  It had to be the courser. 

“No, please, you don’t have to do this-!”

The ping of a laser rifle echoed down the staircase.  Rose felt Cara shrink back against her at the sound.  Even Ichabod flinched, pulling himself up her like a cat and ducking into her arms… though Rose guessed he was just bothered by the sound.

“All he had to do was tell me the password.  Now, are _you_ going to cooperate?”

Rose felt her jaw clench.  This thing had subdued a bunch of professional mercenaries like it was nothing, and yet here she was.  She was a damn housecat facing down a wolf.  She palmed a hit of Psycho from her pack and slammed it into her thigh, doubling over from the effort it took not to scream out as the adrenaline-fueled drug torched through her veins.  She could feel Hancock’s hand on her back, steadying her, and Cara’s ever-present stare… the latter would’ve made her cheeks burn if she weren’t so suddenly overcome by the need to kill everything in the room.

“Stay down here,” Rose hissed to Cara past a clenched jaw.

“Not a cha-”

“Do _not_ argue with me.”  Her voice came out in a low, deadly growl, just quiet enough to avoid carrying up to the next floor.  “You stay down here and wait, and if we go down, you fucking run.  Remember what I told you.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

On the level above them, the sounds of the remaining Gunners pleading for their lives grew steadily louder as the courser started to lose patience.  Cara looked up towards them, with what little blood left in her face draining away at their terrified voices.

Rose made eye contact with Hancock briefly.  His jaw tightened unhappily, and gripped Cara’s arms like he was steadying her, careful to keep his hands out of reach of Ichabod’s teeth.

“Hey, what are you-?”

While her head was turned away, Rose brought up the butt of her shotgun and swiftly brought it down on the back of her sister’s head.  Cara went limp instantly, eyes rolling back, but Hancock kept her weight supported and gently eased her down onto the steps.  Ichabod sniffed at her face curiously and squeaked, as though not understanding why she wasn’t moving.  Dogmeat whined and licked Cara’s face.

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Hancock muttered.

Rose took a deep breath, pushing the guilt to the back of her mind to deal with later.  “At least she’ll be alive to hate me.”

She crouched down for a quick instant to pump half a stimpak into Cara’s biscep; that would take care of any damage and pain by the time she woke up. 

“If you start taking bites out my sister, I’ll turn you into a pair of boots,” she warned Ichabod.  The young deathclaw spared her a bored look, curled up on Cara’s stomach like a scaly cat, and closed his eyes.  Evidently the excitement of battling a miniature army of Gunners had tuckered him out.

Satisfied that her sister was out of harm’s way- or at least as much so as possible- Rose motioned to Dogmeat and Hancock to continue up the stairs.

“I’m going to get in there, it’s just a matter of time,” the courser was saying.  “Tell me the password.”

They edged out onto the landing.  The courser had four Gunners tied up in front of a room locked down with steel gates; one of them was lying prone in a puddle of blood.

“Look, I already told you I don’t have it!” one of the Gunners pleaded.  “I’ll help you find a way in, but listen, we took the girl fair and square-”

The courser’s eyes snapped up to Rose.  “You’ve been following me,” he said matter-of-factly, shifting the barrel of his rifle towards her chest.  “Are you after the synth?”

“In a matter of speaking,” she replied, sighting down her shotgun. 

“Ah, so you’re here for me, then.”  His voice was maddeningly calm, like they were having a chat over tea.  “No matter.  You’ll die like the rest of them.”

He fired, but Rose had anticipated it; she rolled forward towards the courser and fired off two shots into his chest.   He must have been wearing some kind of armor underneath the black leather coat he wore, because he took the hits and stayed standing.

Her intention was to stay as close to the courser as possible; his rifle was better at range, which gave her the advantage if she stayed close enough to keep him from being able to aim properly.  But a second later he vanished out of view.

Hancock swore.  “Did he just…?”

“Stealth Boy!” Rose shouted back. 

She could see a faint blurriness as the courser tried to create some distance between them.  She did the only thing she could think of and lunged forward to try to grab onto him.  She managed to catch what she was pretty certain was his arm, but the courser knocked her shotgun down when she tried to fire.  She felt his hand lock around her wrist- stronger than a steel vise- and screamed when he twisted it violently to the side.  Her wrist broke like he was snapping a pencil.  She dropped to her knees as the courser continued to keep pressure on the break, sending blinding pain racing through her entire arm.  She felt the heat of the rifle barrel against her temple, but the pain was so great she could barely breathe, let alone pull free.

“Drop down!”

Rose forced herself to go limp at the sound of Hancock’s warning.  Another strangled scream erupted from her throat as her weight pulled her hand roughly from the courser’s grip.  A second later Hancock fired in the courser’s general direction, and from the sound of it managed to hit his target.  Rose flinched as hot blood splattered on her head and back.

The courser flickered back into view; his Stealth Boy had been damaged by the attack.  He was bloodied, but still lethal; he rounded on Hancock as he scrambled to reload.  Dogmeat slipped past him and sank his teeth into the courser’s arm, shaking his head violently from side to side.  The courser was pulled down by his weight and tried to yank Dogmeat off, but his jaws were locked deeply into his flesh.

Hancock was still reloading.  The courser finally tore Dogmeat off, tossing the shepherd against the staircase railing.  He took aim for Hancock’s chest; Rose forced herself to her feet and rammed into him from the back with her shoulder.  The two of them tumbled forward as she knocked him off balance.  She tried to keep leverage, but with one useless arm the courser easily overpowered her.  She felt his fingers lock around her throat and he slammed her against the ground; stars exploded in front of her eyes and then immediately began to turn black as he tightened his hand around her windpipe, choking off her air.  She scrabbled at the back of his hand with her nails, but he used his free hand to slam the butt of his rifle down on her injured forearm; she couldn’t scream, but the pain was so intense that she nearly blacked out.

“Bad move!” Hancock snarled.  He couldn’t fire his double-barrel without risking Rose, so he pulled out his knife and swiped at the Courser’s neck.  He managed to cut a deep gash into the side of the assasin’s throat, but the damn thing still wouldn’t go down.  He released Rose and brought his rifle up with unnatural quickness, forcing Hancock to dive behind the giant metal grates that rose up through the center of the floor.

Rose drew in a couple of ragged breaths and reached down by her side, wrapping her fingers around the grip of her pistol.  The courser was still crouched above her; he was busy raining fire towards Hancock to keep him pinned down.  He appeared to be weakening from the blood flowing out of his neck, though; his shots were shaky and inaccurate.

By then Dogmeat had recovered.  He appeared over the courser’s shoulder and bit down on the space between his neck and collarbone.  His weight pulled the courser backwards, and Rose saw her opening.  She brought her pistol up in her left hand and jammed the barrel underneath his chin, firing off the entire magazine in the space of about two seconds.  His eyes went vacant, and after about a heartbeat he slowly fell backwards and was still.

There were a few moments of motionlessness while they waited to make certain the courser was absolutely dead.  But he didn’t get up again, and Rose found no pulse when she pressed the fingers of her good hand against his neck.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the Gunners said in awe.  He and his remaining buddies were huddled up in the corner, still bound.  “That thing took out like twenty of our guys… and you two put it down in three minutes.”

“It’s an off day,” Rose said sarcastically.  She experimentally tried to flex her fingers and hissed.  Her entire arm was on fire; she didn’t even want to look at it. 

“Lemme see that,” Hancock said.  He took her hand extremely gently, but even that light touch was enough to Rose bite back a scream.

“That’s gonna need to be reset,” he observed grimly.  “It’ll be a day or two before it heals too, even with stimpaks.”

“I’ll worry about it in a minute.”  She marked the spreading bloodstains on his shoulder and calf, frowning.  “You alright?”

“Bumps and bruises, love.  Courser caught me with a couple of stray bursts.  Nothing a stimpak and a few hits of Jet won’t fix.”

Dogmeat whined, and she looked over to where he was staring pointedly back down the stairs.  “Will you go check on Cara?  I’m going to dig out this damn chip.”

Luckily, the courser chip wasn’t hard to find.  Rose could feel the outline attached to the Courser’s skull, right at the base of his head.  It took a little work to pry it off one-handed, but she managed.  Then she walked over to the locked door, sparing a withering glance for the captive Gunners.

“We don’t know the password!” one of them piped up immediately.  “Please don’t kill us!”

“I figured as much.”  She tapped the keyboard of the terminal… hacking was a lot more difficult one-handed, and the pain in her wrist made her focus fuzzy.  “And I’m not going to kill you, unless you try something stupid.  I’ve had my fill of bloodshed for the day.”

“You _knocked me out?!_ ”

Cara’s shrill, angry voice drilled right into Rose’s brain; she winced, noting that she could add a headache onto her list of injuries.

“It was that or drug you, and I figured you’d be happier without a Med-X hangover.”

Rose tried to continue hacking the terminal, but Cara reached her and shoved her back against the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rose?!”

“She probably saved your life, kid,” Hancock said, coming up behind her.  “That courser took more hits than a mirelurk queen.”

“And you broke your wrist?” Cara demanded, when she spotted the heavy bruising already spreading around Rose’s limp arm. 

“Technically the courser broke it.  But yes.”

She huffed.  “Well, you deserve it.  I can’t believe you actually fucking _hit_ me, Rose.”

“You weren’t going to listen to me anyway!”

Another one of the Gunners was watching them in confusion.  “Are you two really arguing about-”

“Remember what I said about doing stupid things?” Rose growled at him, and he immediately shut up.

“You could’ve been _killed_ , Rose.”  Cara was still clearly angry, but her aggression was subsiding the more she took in her sister’s haggard and bloodstained appearance. 

“And you _would have_ been killed,” she replied, suddenly exhausted.  “Cara, that thing very nearly killed Hancock and me both.  It is through sheer luck that we’re both still standing.  I did what I had to do to protect you, and I’m not going to apologize for it.  You probably don’t even have so much as a headache after that stimpak I gave you.”

“That’s not the point!”

Rose rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  Then we’ll talk about your point later when I don’t have a shattered wrist to distract me.”

She finished hacking the terminal by way of ending the argument.  Cara was glowering, but her entire posture changed when the doors slid open and she saw the young woman huddled in the back of the room, wide-eyed and shaking like a leaf.

“Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looked at her warily.  “Depends… you want to sell me off too?”

Cara shook her head.  “Nah, we’re the good guys.  Even though it might not look that way,” she added, glancing sidelong at the bodies and blood on the floor behind them.  She held out a hand to the girl and smiled.  “You’re safe now, I promise.”

The girl studied her carefully before accepting Cara’s hand and edging outside.  The Gunners began to fidget and make noises of protest.

“Hey, that’s our payday you’ve got there!”

Rose whipped out her pistol again and pointed it right at the complainer’s head.  “You three really have a deathwish today, don’t you?”

“Don’t need to bother wastin’ the ammo,” Hancock said darkly, pulling his knife out and twirling it demonstratively. 

“Rose, they’re tied up and unarmed!” Cara objected, stepping in front to block her shot.  “You’re not really going to kill them, are you?”

“You want to risk them coming back to kidnap her again?” Rose asked, jerking her head towards the synth.  “Or taking someone else?”

“Some people are just better off dead, sister,” Hancock added.

“You’d be murdering them in cold blood; that’s not right and you know it.”

“Don’t spill any more blood on my account,” the synth said in agreement, even though she was staring at the Gunners with a strong sense of hatred.  “I’ll be alright on my own.  If I can’t learn to fend for myself out here, I’ll never be able to survive.”

Rose considered them for a moment, and then lowered her gun with a sigh.  “Fine.”  She turned to the Gunners.  “But if I see any of you in the Commonwealth again, I’ll shoot to kill… and I don’t miss often.  Got it?”

The three of them nodded in unison, afraid to speak lest they ignite her ire once again.  Rose’s wrist was shrieking in pain, so she tapped her pocket to make certain she still had the courser chip, and motioned for them all to leave.

“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”


	8. Chapter 8

**(Rose)**

“Ow!  Jesus, Carrington.  It’s not like those joints were recently shattered or anything.  Think you could stand to be a little more gentle?”

The grumpy railroad doctor scoffed as he continued to manipulate Rose’s fingers and wrist.  “The legendary heroine of the Commonwealth can’t handle a brief examination?  Tell me why I’m not surprised.” 

“I’m more than happy to smash the bones in your hand if it’ll help improve your bedside manner.”  He rotated her wrist to the side a little more roughly than was called for, and she swore.  “Goddammit, Carringon, I swear to God…”

Cara shot a glare up at the physician from where she was crouched on the floor, stroking Ichabod’s scaly tummy. “Someone piss in your cereal this morning or something, doc?  Everyone else seems pretty excited about that chip thing that Rose risked life and limb to recover.”

“I still have a mind to ask to Glory drag you and that creature to Amari for a mind-wipe and leave you in the middle of Boston Common, so don’t test me,” he replied dryly.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen if Amari wants to keep on operating outta Goodneighbor… or if you want to keep all your extremities,” Hancock warned, with the hint of a low growl in his raspy voice.  He had busied himself with reloading all of their weapons with the ammo from Tom’s supplies, and he pointedly chambered a round in the pistol he was holding, keeping Carrington between the crosshairs as he checked the sights.

“Hey, why doesn’t everyone take it easy?”  Deacon appeared from PAM’s room; a small frown creased his forehead behind his ever-present sunglasses.  “Doc, these guys _did_ just manage to bring down a Courser by themselves, and get us the biggest breakthrough we’ve had in infiltrating the Institute since… forever.  Maybe cut them a little slack, huh?”

It had taken them nearly a full day to make it back to the Railroad’s secret base underneath the Old North Church.  Since Rose’s right hand was temporarily unusable, they’d had to take up extra time skirting around the more dangerous parts of Boston to avoid another fight.  Hancock had helped her set the fractures in her wrist and hand as best they could once they were satisfied that they were safe- a process which Cara couldn’t bear to watch, even though Rose had dulled the pain with half a dose of Med-X beforehand.  The stimpaks were doing their work well, but Rose was still unable to grip anything, let alone handle the recoil on her shotgun.  The constant, dull ache (along with the shooting pains that radiated up her arm anytime her hand bumped anything) had put her in an extremely black mood… and both Hancock and Cara were feeling the tension as well.  Even Dogmeat seemed more on edge than usual; he growled at any unfamiliar person who ventured too close, and only constant stern commands from Rose kept him from snapping at Carrington.

Their reception at the Railroad hideout hadn’t helped matters.  Desdemona hadn’t been thrilled that Rose had brought Cara to their doorstep- and was even less pleased when she saw Ichabod.  She only deigned to let them inside after Rose turned on her heel and threatened to take the chip to the Minutemen or the Brotherhood of Steel (the latter was an obvious bluff, but abhorrent enough that the Railroad leader caved immediately).  Tinker Tom was working on the chip now; he could be heard busily clacking away on his computer terminal as he fought to crack the encryption on the Institute technology.

 Carrington, for all of his cross foul-temperedness, had insisted on seeing to their injuries… once he finished complaining about Cara, of course.  His disdain for Rose and Hancock hadn’t appeared to decrease in the wake of their success with the courser; if anything he only seemed more irritated that they had convinced Desdemona to let yet another untested stranger into their midst.

“Whoever set these breaks for you actually appears to have done fairly well,” Carrington observed, his tone reluctantly admiring.  “For a field job, anyway.”

“Been around more than a couple broken bones over the years; you tend to pick up a thing or two,” Hancock replied.  He finished prepping their guns and moved to stand next to Rose, who leaned against his shoulder wearily.

“That’s not from doing the breaking, right?” Deacon asked.

Hancock gave him a dark look.  “You really want me to answer that?”

“No,” Cara piped up from her spot on the floor.  “ _Totally_ fine without those details, big guy.”

“You should still keep your hand splinted until it heals totally,” Carrington continued, ignoring the others completely as he began to carefully wrap Rose’s wrist.   “You should make a full recovery.  The most you’ll have to worry about it maybe some stiffness in the joint from time to time, achiness when it rains, that sort of thing.”  He gave her a stern glare over the bridge of his nose.  “I would strongly advise you to avoid injuring this wrist again if you want to keep using it… though knowing the way you heavies operate, I’m sure that falls on deaf ears.”

Rose rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, I’m just a sucker for pain and crippling injuries.”

“Finished!” Tinker Tom crowed from across the room, throwing his fist into the air.  “ _Yes_!  Got you, you dirty little…”

“You cracked the code?” Desdemona asked, peering over his shoulder at the terminal screen.

“Told you the Institute couldn’t write a code I couldn’t crack,” Tom said with a wink.  “Took a little elbow grease, but I’ve got her pried open and spillin’ out _all_ her secrets.”

“So we can build the relay?  We can make it work?” Rose asked.

Tom’s head bobbed enthusiastically.  “Oh hell yeah, we can make it work!”  Then his face clouded a bit.  “The only thing is, uh… I don’t think we’d be able to send more than one person through that thing.  The schematics your boy Virgil drew up are shaky as it is, and anything more than a single body _might_ just overload the entire relay and cause it to… errr… explode.”

“Are you serious?” Hancock demanded, the disapproval heavy in his voice.

“What if we sent one person at a time?” Rose asked, but Tom shook his head.

“I don’t think so.  The Institute is going to be on that signal like stink on a mirelurk as soon as we activate it… there’s no way they’d leave it open to be used twice.”

“So I’d be on my own?”

“About as on your own as it’s possible to be,” Tom affirmed with a shrug.

Hancock shoved off forcefully from Rose’s cot, which he had been leaning against.  “Fucking wonderful.”

“What, you don’t think she can handle it?” Deacon asked.  “This ought to be a walk in the park for the woman who took down Kellogg!”

Deacon’s tone was slightly teasing, but Hancock turned on him with a glare that would freeze anyone’s blood.

“Glad you can take this so fuckin’ lightly.  Maybe we oughta test that thing out on you, since you don’t seem to think coursers are that big a deal.”  He moved right up into Deacon’s face.  “Or maybe I oughta just gut you right now, save them the trouble.”

“Back down _now,_ ” Desdemona ordered, as the buzz and clicks of several firearms sounded around them.

“Easy, Dez,” Deacon said.  He hadn’t moved from his perch on Carrington’s desk, though his face had grown decidedly more grim.  “The good mayor’s pissed, but he’s not stupid.”

Hancock bared his teeth.  “How much you wanna bet?”

“ _Enough_.”  Rose stood and pushed Hancock back by the shoulder, separating the two men.  “Deacon isn’t the enemy, John.  Stand down.”

Hancock’s dark gaze flickered over to her; his jaw tightened at her words, but after a tense moment he took a step back.

“Uh oh, looks like the General’s arrived.  Would hate to disobey a direct order.”  He snapped a sharp salute to Rose, and started to walk back out into the main part of the church.  “Lemme know when you’re ready to blow outta here, doll.  Don’t think I’m gonna be welcome for too much longer.”

 Rose watched him go with her fists clenched, as she tried to get her temper under control.  As the door leading to the secret base slammed shut with unnecessary force she went to punch the wall, just barely stopping short as she remembered her injuries.  She opted instead to kick Carrington’s chair into the wall.

Desdemona watched the whole thing with her arms crossed.  “You’re valuable to our cause, Rose, but I don’t have much tolerance for those who threaten my people… and especially not under my own roof.  You should evaluate where your relationships stop being assets and start becoming liabilities.”

“You’re telling me you’d be thrilled if someone you loved was going up against the odds that Rose is?” Cara asked, standing up and taking a stance to mimic the Railroad leader’s.  “I’d probably be acting the same way if I had the balls and the physical ability to back up my threats the way he does.”

“If that was meant to increase my confidence in you or the mayor, I’m afraid you missed your mark,” Desdemona replied coolly.

“He’s just worried,” Rose muttered, pushing herself onto her feet and heading for the door herself.  “I’ll talk to him.  Cara, can you ready our stuff to leave?” 

“We’ll contact you once we get the relay built,” Deacon promised.  “Hey, and tell the big guy no hard feelings from me… I get it.”

Rose just gave him a terse nod; she was too frustrated to reply.  _Nothing can ever just be fucking easy._ She walked out into the church’s catacombs, already running through the upcoming argument in her head. 

She spotted the red of Hancock’s coat a few chambers in.  He was pacing back and forth and taking drags from a cigarette almost more frequently than he took regular breaths.  It was dark and his eyes were fixed on the ground; he didn’t see her approach.  Rose strode right up to him and yanked on his shoulder, pulling him to a stop. 

“What is your problem?!” she demanded heatedly.  “You think starting a fight with Deacon was really going to change anything?”

He shook off her hand roughly.  “Yeah, I’m the bad guy here.  Why the fuck not.”

“You’re certainly not winning any awards for civility!”  Rose crossed her arms as color bloomed angrily in her cheeks.  “You _know_ what this means to me, John.  Why are you acting like this?”

“It’s a fucking suicide mission, Rose!” Hancock snapped.  “You’re really going to let them zap you into the Institute, with no back-up and no way to get out?  And that’s _if_ that fucking relay thing doesn’t decide to go up in flames with you inside of it.”

“I told you, I’ll be _fine_.”

“Fine?”  He grabbed her injured wrist and lightly squeezed, causing her to yelp.  “That feel ‘fine’ to you?  The Institute is full of those damn things.  You’ll be in _their_ territory, and no one’s gonna be around to help if they decide they wanna break every goddamn bone in your body.”

Rose snatched her hand back and glared at him through narrowed eyes.  “If they wanted to kill me, they’d have done it already.”

Hancock scoffed.  “So that courser was, what?  Playing with us, then?  ‘Cuz I felt pretty fuckin’ sure that he was trying to put us in the ground.  Kellogg didn’t seem to have an issue on that front either… dunno if you remember or not.”

Rose exhaled slowly through gritted teeth and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Look, it’s been a _very_ long couple of days.  We’re both exhausted.  Can we shelve this fight until we’ve at least gotten some food and sleep?”

Hancock crossed his arms.  “I ain’t backin’ down on this one, doll.”

“Well, that’s the thing about fights… they take two.”  Rose straightened her spine and set her jaw in an equally stern line.  “I’m _tired_ , I’m in pain, and I do not have the energy to duke this out with you right now.  I’m going to Goodneighbor to get some fucking rest and recover before Tom finishes building that relay, so if you want to continue this _asinine_ argument then I guess you’ll need to follow me there.  But for right now, I’m done.”

She strode off back to the base, but paused before turning the corner.  “For what it’s worth… I love you for worrying so much.  But you’re going to have to pick your battles a little better.”

He sneered at her retreating back, but he’d already lost most of his venom.  _That woman’s going to be the death of you one of these days, John._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can listen to the song I reference in this chapter here, if anyone's interested n_n:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNzxH3zRU_I

**(Rose)**

The walk back to Goodneighbor was one of the more uncomfortable ones Rose had endured since waking up out of the vault.  Hancock was still seething and had barely said two words during the trip, which was unusual for the normally talkative ghoul.  Cara stayed between the two of them like a physical buffer, and Ichabod and Dogmeat trailed behind… both animals could sense the tension, and it seemed that neither of them were willing to get in the middle if a fight broke out.

For the time being, though, Rose was fine with the silence.  She knew that she’d have to continue hashing things out with Hancock sooner or later.  She understood his concerns- really, she did- but he couldn’t understand the kind of love that drove her to push on despite the risks.  She would easily put herself in harm’s way for him… die for him, even, without a second thought.  And she’d do it gladly.  But for Shaun… she’d throw herself into the very depths of Hell if it meant getting her baby boy back.  

Hancock broke away from them almost as soon as they passed through the gates into the town, muttering something about going to track down Fahrenheit.  Rose wondered if he intended to talk to the intimidating mercenary about taking over his role as mayor.  The thought lightened her spirits somewhat; if that’s what he was really going to do, then he wasn’t so mad that he was thinking of leaving.

“So this is Goodneighbor?” Cara asked, as she looked around the front courtyard.  “That’s the Old State House, isn’t it?  Didn’t they used to do field trips there in grade school?”

Rose nodded.  “Yeah.  It’s also the current mayoral residence… and occasionally the junkie boarding house.”  She tugged lightly on her sister’s hand.  “Come on… there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Rose led her sister up to Daisy’s shop counter.  The ghoul merchant was already standing there waiting, watching the two women with a warm smile.

“Ooh, I must’ve drank too much last night, because I swear I’m seein’ double.”  Daisy grinned at the two sisters, dark eyes squinting a little as she gave Cara a once-over.  “One of you’s got the wrong color hair, though.”

Rose smiled and briefly hugged the sassy trader.  “Daisy, this is my sister Cara… the one we went to Albany to find?  Cara, this is Daisy.  She’s from before the war too.”

“No way?”  Cara cocked her head.  “But that would make you at least two centuries old!”

“Probably about 230, if you wanna get technical; but who’s counting, right?”  Daisy jumped as Ichabod emerged from behind Cara’s legs to investigate the new person.  “What in the… is that a deathclaw?  Or did Dogmeat have a bad run with some rads while you were gone?”

Dogmeat huffed indignantly, pushing Ichabod aside with his nose so that he could situate himself between Rose and Cara.  The young deathclaw hardly seemed to mind; he just latched onto Cara’s opposite leg and watched the three women with yellow, slitted eyes.

“His name’s Ichabod,” Cara said fondly as she hoisted the mutated reptile up in her arms.  “We found him out by the C.I.T.”

“Well, you’d better tell Fahrenheit about him before she uses him for target practice.”  She tilted her head and glanced briefly around the courtyard.  “And speaking of Goodneighbor’s second-in-command… where’s Mayor Hancock gone off to?  That man’s usually attached to your hip nowadays.”

Rose grimaced.  “He’s… a little less than pleased with me, at the moment.  It’s a long story.”

Daisy pursed her lips and nodded knowingly.  “Well, if you two could handle that Brotherhood of Steel nonsense and his slip-up with Sinjin, I don’t doubt that you’ll recover from this little spat.”  Then she grinned, and pulled on Rose’s arm.  “Hey, why don’t you come back and see what I’ve picked up in my latest shipment?  I think you might be interested.”

Daisy led them to the back of her shop, where she had a random assortment of boxes and goods organized into a sort of haphazard chaos.  She rummaged around for a moment before dragging out a small cardboard box; she held it out to the sisters, grinning hugely.

“One of my boys found these locked in one of those big supply trucks… still in working condition, too.  I was thinkin’ about sending most of them to that boy Travis out in Diamond City, but figured you might want first dibs.”

Rose peered into the box, and couldn’t help but gasp.  Inside the box was a collection of holotapes, all labeled with the names of different songs and artists from before the war.  She took a handful out and read the names as she carefully dropped them back down.

“’Why Do Fools Fall in Love’… ‘Stranger in Paradise’… ‘Moonlight Serenade’… I remember all of these!”  Rose felt emotion unexpectedly tighten in her chest.  “Wow.  I thought I was going to be doomed to listen to the same ten songs on Travis’s station for the rest of my life.”

“You and me both,” Daisy agreed.  “I was tempted to keep these for myself, but I figured I can’t deprive the Commonwealth of a chance to experience some culture.”

Cara peered curiously into the box, and plucked a holotape out.  “Hey Rose, look at this one!  Isn’t it…?”

Rose took the tape from her and skimmed the title; she felt herself freeze, and was momentarily speechless.

“Daisy… how much for this one?” she asked after a long moment.

The female ghoul studied her, dark eyes marking Rose’s expression with interest.  “Consider it a gift, sweetheart.  No charge today.”

* * *

**(Hancock)**

_Glad that’s fuckin’ over_ , Hancock thought to himself, as he walked back towards the State House.  Fahrenheit had taken his proposal about making her mayor surprisingly well… she’d only swung at him once, and hadn’t threatened to kill him in his sleep, so he figured it had gone about as well as it could have.  Truth was, she’d probably seen it coming from the moment he’d agreed to let Rose drag him all across the Commonwealth.  He toyed with the idea of making an announcement to the general public, but there wasn’t much point in getting everyone riled up for no reason.  Better to fade away, let Fahrenheit step into her new role more gradually.

He spotted Cara playing with her pet deathclaw out by entrance to the city; she’d say some command and make a gesture with her hand, and then reward the overgrown lizard with a chunk of meat when it obeyed.  He had to admit, he was impressed with how well she’d been able to train the thing.  It followed her around with as much devotion as Dogmeat had for Rose.  He hadn’t thought that deathclaws were smart enough to be trained like that… though he’d never been particularly interested in finding out, either.

“Hey, kid.  Seen your sister around?” he asked, making her jump.  They’d have to work on that awareness of hers… not many people were liable to mess with her considering her ties to him and her sister, but Goodneighbor still wasn’t a good place to let your guard down.

“There you are!” she exclaimed.  “Daisy was asking after you.”

“Her and everyone else,” he muttered, with a quick roll of his onyx eyes. 

“Oh, the struggles of popularity.  That must be so hard,” Cara said in false sympathy.  He gave her a look but she grinned, unbothered by his annoyance.

“You didn’t answer my question.”  Ichabod crawled over to him, sniffing around for treats; he lightly shoved at the overgrown lizard with his boot and it scurried back to wrap itself around Cara’s legs.

Cara nodded her head down towards the alley.  “I heard her mention something about going to the Memory Den, wherever that is… asked if she wanted me to come with, but she said Daisy and KLEO would help keep me out of trouble.”  Cara glanced over his shoulder towards the assaultron’s gun stand, and dropped her voice to a whisper.  “Between you and me, KLEO’s freaking terrifying.  I feel like she’d blow my brains out just for saying hi to her.”

Hancock lifted his shoulders in a shrug.  “Not usually.  She mostly gets touchy when you try to lift stuff from her inventory.  She doesn’t like to waste the bullets.”

Cara raised her eyebrows.  “Yeah, I’ll stick with Daisy.  She’s more fun to talk to anyway… she actually understands references to our time when I make them.  And she’s a bookworm.”  She crouched down and scooped up Ichabod in her arms, tickling him under the chin and making him squeak happily.  “So you going to talk to Rose, or what?  I don’t think I can stand much more of you two giving each other the silent treatment.”

“Maybe later.”  He searched around in his pockets for some Jet to give himself an excuse not to meet her eyes.  “I just spent a half hour gettin’ chewed out by Fahre… not lookin’ for a repeat performance tonight.”

Cara nodded… a little sadly, he thought.  “Yeah.  Can’t say I blame you, I guess.”

He started in towards the Old State House, and then paused to turn back to the younger Alexander sister.  “There’s not usually a whole lotta spare room in the State House, but I put the word out to Clair over in Hotel Rexford that she’s to give you your own room while we’re here.  There’s a couple of couches you can snag if you’d rather stay a bit closer, but they ain’t the most comfortable beds in the world.  If you head down to the Third Rail just tell Charlie to put whatever you get on my tab.”

“Thanks, Hancock.  I’ll do that.”

He hesitated.  “I’d show ya around, you know, but-”

She held up her palm and shook her blonde head.  “Don’t bother; I get it.  You don’t have to play host or mayor with me; I’ll be just fine.”  She smiled.  “I’ll probably be turning in soon myself anyway.  I don’t know how you guys keep this up… I’m more physically tired than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”  She waved her hand towards the State House.  “Go get some rest.  I’m sure we’ll all feel better after a decent night’s sleep.”

He gave her a quick nod.  “Thanks, kid.”

* * *

Hancock couldn’t stop his brain from yapping at him as he wearily ascended the stairs up to the State House’s third floor.  Being pissed at Rose wasn’t right, and he knew it.  She’d been clear about her goals since the beginning.  He knew damn well that she wasn’t going to let him stop her now.  He’d just been taken off guard when Tinker Tom had said that she’d be going it alone… he’d never liked the idea of the teleportation-relay-thing, but he’d soothed himself with the thought that at least they’d be facing the Institute together.  Picturing her at the mercy of those whacked-out scientists with no one there to protect her was like the worst of any nightmare, or a severely bad drug trip.  Just the mere thought of it was enough to make him want to dose himself into oblivion.  He clenched his fists tightly inside his pockets, fighting the urge.

After a few seconds he became aware of music filtering down the stairs.  His first thought was that it was coming up from the Third Rail, but he was on the second floor by now and there was no way their little jukebox could be cranked up that loud.  It took him a moment to realize it was a tune he’d never heard before… which was a fucking rarity in and of itself.

The song became more distinct as he got closer to his room.  He could just make out faint humming over it, and then singing in a low voice when the words started up.

“Darling, _je vous aime beaucoup_ …”

He paused as he reached the doorway, watching.  Rose was reclined on the bed, eyes closed and her hands resting over her heart.  Dogmeat was curled at her feet, and fast asleep by the looks of it.

The music came from the old holotape player that she’d helped to repair during some down time on one of their previous visits.  Her lips moved along with the words; she sang along lightly, almost absently, like she didn’t realize she was doing it.

“ _Je ne sais pas_ what to do… you know you’ve completely stolen my heart…”

He watched her silently, afraid to move lest her startle her and break the spell.  He’d never her sing before… which wasn’t unusual, since he was pretty sure that only other person he’d actually heard sing anything in person was Magnolia.  People didn’t normally have a lot to sing about in the Commonwealth… especially when it could give away your position and get you shot, or eaten. 

Rose’s voice was low, tentative, but she matched every note of the song, even humming along to the instrumental bits.  Clearly, this was something she had listened to many times before.  Her face, which had carried the hard lines of a frown far too often these past weeks, was relaxed in an almost blissful expression.

The song quietly faded to a close, and the holotape shut off.  Rose sighed, and then rolled to her side to push herself up off the bed.  She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Hancock standing in the doorway; her cheeks blushed bright red, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.  It was one of his favorite expressions for her… he’d have to remind himself to sneak up on her more often.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she said admonishingly.  “How long have you been standing there?”

“A while.  You could put Mags out of a job,” he said, which made her blush more.  “Where’d you find that song?  Haven’t heard it before.”

“Daisy.  She had a box of holotapes that one of her suppliers managed to dig up.  She let me have this one.”  Her fingers brushed over the wooden surface of the holotape player.  “I didn’t think I’d get to ever hear it again.”

“Was it your and Nate’s song?”  He seemed to recall a reference to that sort of thing somewhere… maybe in one of the books that Daisy was so fond of collecting.

She shook her head.  “No.  He wasn’t ever much for that.  This song… when I was a little girl, before my father got sick, he would dance with me every time it came on.  And when he had to go away with the military, he told me that he’d play it every night before he went to sleep so that he’d dream about being home.”  She smiled, and it had the same melancholy touch as when she spoke about Shaun.  “After he died I listened to it so much that I burned through three separate holotapes.”

“Sorry to hear that.  About your old man, I mean.”

“Don’t be.  It was a very, very long time ago.”

They both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, each trying to find the words to bridge the gap their argument had wrought.  When he wasn’t able to think of anything else to do, Hancock stepped over the holotape player and flicked it on again.  The song started up after a beat or two.  Rose’s expression immediately softened as soon as the first notes came on; her eyes drifted out of focus as old memories swirled up into her thoughts.

On an impulse, Hancock took Rose’s hand and tugged her against him, letting his other arm rest around her hips.  She blinked at him with a bemused tilt playing around her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“I ain’t much good at dancin’,” he said by way of answering, “but I might’ve taken the time to learn if there were more songs like this around.”

Her smile turned into a full-blown grin.  She nestled her head against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck, and just like that all of his frustration from earlier was wiped away.  It had to be some kind of witchcraft or something, the way she could change his entire mood with such a small gesture.  He began to spin her in a slow circle- he wasn’t kidding about having two left feet, but she didn’t seem to mind.  She melted against him, and he thought that he could stay there forever.

“I’m sorry about being a bitch earlier,” she said. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, a little gruffly.  He knew she wasn’t conceding defeat or surrendering.  For right now, though, it would be enough.  “I could’ve been a little less of a jackass too.”

“You were kind of entitled to be,” she admitted.

They spun in lazy circles for another few seconds or so, and then Hancock dragged up the courage to ask something he’d been wondering about for a while.  “So, what’re ya gonna do?  When you find Shaun, I mean.”

Her head cocked; his heart began to knock against his ribcage as he practically felt her pick apart his reasons for asking in her mind.

“I guess I’ll take him to Sanctuary,” she answered after a beat.  “So long as we don’t end up having to hightail it out of the Commonwealth to escape the Institute, anyway.  That’s probably the safest place he could be… except maybe the Castle, but that’s not really any place to raise a kid.  The settlers can teach him about farming and providing for himself; Sturgis can show him all of that handyman stuff he knows how to do; and Cara will be there to mix some real education into all of that.  And we can teach him to fight and defend himself…”

“We?”  He paused, risking a glance down at her.

She lifted her head to better look at him.  “Yeah, as in you and I.  Unless you’ve got better plans?”

He fought for a moment to regain his power of speech; that hadn’t been the answer he was expecting.  “I… I mean… uh, yeah.”

She arched an eyebrow.  “’Uh, yeah’?”

He gave his head a little shake to clear it.  “Sorry.  I just thought… well, sorta thought you’d be tellin’ me to take a hike once the kid was back in the picture.”  Her face began to shift into indignation and he scrambled to defend himself.  “That ain’t any sorta judgment against you, Sunshine.  It’s just that most people wouldn’t trust a ghoul with their kid if their life depended on it… ‘specially not one with my kinda history.  And I ain’t really the father type… my own old man wasn’t the greatest role model on that front.  Don’t think I’ve even known any kids since I was one myself.”

“Nothing I’ve done since leaving the vault has been without Shaun in mind,” she said firmly.  She cupped his face between her hands so that he had to look at her.  “That includes choosing to be with you.”

He snorted.  “Bullshit, love.  No way you saw me stab Finn at the front gates and had your first thought be ‘daddy.’”  He paused, then grinned.  “Or was it?”

She smacked his forehead with her palm.  “You’re an idiot.”  But she was smiling too.  “What I meant is that I trust you.  I don’t like some of the things you’ve done, sure, but I trust you with my life, and I feel like I can trust you with Shaun’s.  We wouldn’t be here right now if I had any doubts… no matter how devilishly charming you are.”

Despite his smile, he could feel anxiety winding coils around his ribs.  “As much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, love, I don’t know jack shit about raisin’ kids.  Fatherhood wasn’t ever something that was gonna be in the picture for me.”

“I’m not asking you to be his father,” she replied bluntly.  “You can just be that guy who sleeps in Mom’s room for all I care.”  He chuckled at that.  “All I know is that I’d trust you to never raise a hand to him, or let him do anything stupid like fall in with raiders or get addicted to chems.  I’d trust you to help me keep him safe.  That’s really be enough for me.”

Hancock couldn’t immediately respond.  His heart was thudding so damn hard, just as hard as it had the first time she’d let him fuck her back at her little truck stop in Sanctuary.  He must’ve been a goddamned _saint_ in a previous life, because there was no fucking way he deserved this.  Any of this.

Rose watched the emotions pass across his face, with one corner of her mouth hitched up.            “That means that I want you along for the ride, if I wasn’t being blunt enough,” she said with a wink.  “If that’s what you want too, that is.  I won’t try to force you into anything you don’t want to do.”

He tried to come up with a witty response, or at least something affirmative and coherent, but instead what came out of his mouth was, “How the fuck are you even _real_ , Sunshine?”

“Excuse me?”

“People like you just don’t exist.”  He leaned his forehead against hers as he tried to wrestle his thoughts into order.  “I swear to god, if this all ends up bein’ some big Jet flashback, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

“So that’s a yes, then?”

He wrapped both arms around her to hug her tightly against him, until he was probably at risk of suffocating her just a little bit, and kissed her until she was laughing too hard to continue.

“What’s so funny?”

“The song ended a long time ago,” she said pointedly, and he stopped.  He hadn’t even realized that they were still spinning around, he’d been so focused on her.

“Oh.”  He grinned roguishly as a thought struck him.  “You know, come to think of it, there _is_ a dance I’m actually pretty good at.  Not a lotta footwork at all… just gotta be horizontal to do it.”

At that Dogmeat got up from the bed with a canine grumble and shake.  Hancock had almost completely forgotten that the mutt was still there.  Dogmeat slunk out of the room, sparing an exasperated glance at the pair that made him question- not for the first time- just how smart the hound really was.  Rose laughed again at the shepherd’s irritation, throwing back her head, and god he could get drunk just off of that sound alone.

“I guess I’ve got another dance or two in me tonight,” she replied to him, and she pulled him along with her onto the bed, a wicked glint in her eye.  “If you’re lucky, I might even let you lead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that I promised some fluff for you all =3. Came up with the idea with Mr. Cole popped up on my iTunes shuffle.
> 
> And yes, I did update the chapter/ change things around a bit. Mostly just wanted to make the convo between Rose and Hancock a little more natural and less monologue-y.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! Fluff and sexytimes. n_n

**(Rose)**

“Come on, Rose.  You’re telling me you seriously haven’t been on one single date with the man you’ve been sleeping with for the past year?”  Cara blocked her sister’s exit firmly, standing with her hands on her hips.  “I know that the wasteland has changed a lot about you, but you can’t honestly expect me to believe that you think shooting up nests of baddies counts.”

It had been nearly a week since they had returned to Goodneighbor, and Rose was beginning to deeply regret not finding ways to keep her sister busy.  Cara had kept herself occupied for a day or two as she enjoyed the reprieve from traveling and took the opportunity to familiarize herself with the town’s friendlier residents.  However, once that novelty wore off she began to get bored very quickly… a turn of events which was having disastrous results.

“First of all, I’ve only been sleeping with Hancock for a few months, not a year,” Rose retorted somewhat lamely.  “And dates kind of lose their significance when you’re spending every day on the road together.  I knew Hancock better in a week than I did any of my previous boyfriends in a month, including Nate.”

“I’m not talking about getting to know someone; I’m talking about _romance._ ”  When Rose rolled her eyes, Cara stomped her foot.  “Will you just humor me, please?  It would be good for you.  I’ve already pitched the idea to Hancock and he agrees.”

“You’ve already _what_?”  Rose’s eyes flashed, but Cara stood her ground, lips pursed intractably.

“I got Daisy to help out too, look.”  Ignoring her sister’s indignation, Cara grabbed a box that had been sitting on the desk.  “She had this set aside for Magnolia, but you two are about the same size.  Anyway, she said Magnolia wouldn’t mind… it’s not usually her color anyway, I guess.”

“You’ve been here how long and are already getting my friends to plot against me?” Rose asked dryly, but she opened the box.  She pulled out what looked like a summer dress, pale lavender in color and sleeveless.  A little frayed around the hem, but otherwise in pretty good condition all things considered.

“She had shoes too,” Cara added, tossing a pair of somewhat scuffed black heels over.  

Rose was skeptical.  “Where did you get the caps to pay for these?  No way Daisy just handed them over to you.”

“Hancock.”  Cara grinned.  “It’s not like he doesn’t have the extra to spare.  And it didn’t take too much persuading to convince him that he’d _really_ want to see you in that outfit.”

“I’ll bet it didn’t,” Rose muttered.  In a louder tone, she added, “I don’t know, Cara.  I have to check in with the Castle and Desdemona in the morning… and I’m long overdue for filling in Nick and Piper…”

“One night isn’t going to kill you,” Cara said stubbornly.  “Will you just enjoy yourself for once?”

“Why do you even care?”

“I care because I woke up to see my big sister taking the entire freaking world on her shoulders,” she replied firmly.  “I love you, and damn it somebody needs to be having fun in this godforsaken place.  Seeing as _I_ don’t currently have any prospects to keep me occupied, making you happy is my next best option.”  A mischievous smile lit up her face.  “Besides, I like Hancock.  He’s good for you, and _way_ more fun than Nate was.”

Rose stared at her sister, torn between appreciation for her affection and exasperation at her meddling.  When it was clear that Cara had no intention of letting this go, she threw her hands in the air and grabbed the dress and heels with a sigh.

“Fine.  But I swear to god if one of you starts laughing at me I’m going to shoot someone.”

* * *

**(Hancock)**

 

Hancock had propped himself up against Daisy’s counter, chatting amiably with the female ghoul while he waited for Cara to reappear with Rose.  He hadn’t heard any shouting or gunshots coming from the Old State House, so he was assuming that Cara had been successful in her quest. 

He had initially been a little skeptical when she had brought him the idea of setting up an actual date… impulsive, inebriated, and (most importantly) brief trysts were more his forte.  Premeditated romantic gestures, not so much.  He liked the idea of doing something nice for Rose, though; Cara had also mentioned that she would get Rose to dress up, and there was no way in hell he was passing up a chance to see _that_.  His mind had drifted back the pictures he’d found in her home back in Sanctuary, where she’d looked as perfect as a pin-up out a pre-war mag. 

“Don’t look now, but here comes your girl,” Daisy said, cutting him off in the middle of his story about Vault 124. 

He glanced over towards the Old State House and then did a double take, staring.  Rose was standing by the door, saying something to Cara as she followed her out, and she was almost unrecognizable.  She wore a pale purple cotton dress that hugged her curves; it was low-cut, and the hem hit her mid-thigh, which made her legs seem to go on for miles.  Cara had even gotten her to wear heels; they emphasized the lean muscles in her calves and showed off her ass, which he spent several moments appreciating.  Her smooth skin almost seemed to glow in the light from the street lamps, freshly scrubbed of any traces of dirt.  Her long hair, normally pulled back, hung loosely around her shoulders in gentle, soft curls… how had they managed that?  The whole image was so different from the armor-clad, gun-toting apocalyptic heroine he was used to seeing that he felt for an instant that he was looking back in time.

He felt nervousness pull unexpectedly at his gut but shook it off.  She may have been Rose dressed to the nines, but she was still Rose.  He strode up to the two women with his customary swagger, openly taking in Rose’s appearance with a low whistle of appreciation.

“Nice work, kid,” he complimented Cara, who beamed. 

“I think Ichabod might’ve given me less grief, but it’s good to see I haven’t lost my touch,” she said proudly.

Rose fidgeted, crossing her arms and pushing her hair back behind her ear.  “I feel naked,” she protested.

“I can make that happen in about five seconds,” Hancock replied, curling an arm around her waist.

Rose blushed, trying to hide the pleased smile that tugged at her lips.  Cara sidestepped around her and began walking towards Daisy’s- to gossip, presumably.

“I’ll just leave you two to it,” she called back, with a big cheesy wink.  “I’d say don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but in this case… just try not to end up killing anyone.”

“No promises,” Rose retorted, and her sister laughed.

“Not that I don’t appreciate all the work that went into this,” Hancock said, speaking into her ear and smirking when she shivered.  “But it is taking every damn ounce of self-control I have not to rip that dress off of you right here.”

“I spent over an hour in my overzealous sister’s clutches for this to happen,” Rose replied, any bashfulness suddenly replaced with sass.  “So for that, you are most definitely going to wait.”  She began to walk away, pulling him with her towards the Third Rail.  “Besides, now I’m hungry, and if I’m going to walk the streets in this outfit I’m going to need a drink.  Or five.”

A breeze swept through the alley, funneled in by the close-set walls, and ruffled the hem of her dress.  Rose instantly jumped about a foot in the air and tugged it down, cursing under her breath.

“Worried I might see your panties?” Hancock teased, chuckling at her dramatic reaction.

She straightened, arching an eyebrow at him as she smoothed the fabric over her hips.  “I’m not wearing any.”

He came to a full stop, blinking at her in surprise, and then groaned.  “ _Christ_.  You are not making this any easier on me, Sunshine.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

The Third Rail was mostly empty.  Hancock had given Ham a heads up after Cara had approached him earlier, and the bouncer had done a fairly decent job of keeping the noisier, rowdier patrons out on the street.  Magnolia was still present in spite of the scanty audience; she winked at the couple as they settled the booth in the far left corner.  Whitechapel Charlie had already set up the table with a couple of glasses and a bottle of Hancock’s private reserve whiskey.  Rose poured herself a generous shot right off the bat and downed half of it.

“It’s a good thing most people in this town are still scared to death of pissing you off, because if anyone starts trouble I’m going to be next to useless,” she observed wryly.

“What makes you say that?”

Rose raised her eyebrows.  “Do you see a lot of places to stash a weapon in this outfit?”

“Hmmm.”  His eyes travelled over her again, this time lingering on the hem of her dress, which had hiked up a couple of inches when she crossed her legs.  “Can’t say that I do.”

 “My eyes are up here, slick,” she teased, nudging his leg with her foot.  “If you aren’t careful, I’m going to think that you’re only after me for my body.”

He smirked as he tossed back a shot of whiskey and refilled her glass.  “Think you ever woulda gone out with a guy like me before the war?”

Rose gave him a pointed look.  “You mean if that guy wasn’t rotting in prison?”

“Ouch.”

“Different world,” she reminded him.  “And no, definitely not.  I think the most dangerous guy I ever dated was some kid named Jake Jones, back when I was a teenager.  All the girls thought he was cool because he wore a leather jacket and drove a red convertible, and there was a rumor that he carried a switchblade to school.”

“Why, he kill someone with it?”

“Nope.  I don’t think I ever even saw it.  He just wanted people to think he had it.”  Hancock rolled his eyes, and Rose grinned.  “That relationship lasted all of about five seconds.”

“What happened?”

“He got a little too handsy when he was dropping me off after our second date, so I punched him in the balls.  He got a lot less cool when he started crying.”

Hancock snickered appreciatively.  “Serves him right.  Amateur.”

“You know, there’s a rumor around town that you and Fahrenheit were a thing,” Rose said, as she sipped some more of her liquor.  “Before I showed up, anyway.”

“Seriously?”  Hancock seemed dumbfounded for a moment, and then he laughed openly.  “Me and Fahre?  No way.  She don’t swing that way, for starters.”

“How did you two meet, anyway?”

He shrugged.  “She was passin’ through town… think she came outta Quincy originally, so she already had a pretty impressive chip on her shoulder.  Vic had pissed her off bad… told her she was a better fit for whoring than doing mercenary work.  She happened to overhear me sweet-talking KLEO into lending me some hardware from her inventory, and the rest is history.”

“You never told me how she took your proposition about becoming mayor.”

He nodded.  “She tore me a new asshole, but she’ll keep runnin’ things.”

“Wouldn’t be like her if she didn’t.”

Their conversation continued in much the same way for a couple of hours, at least.  Hancock had thought the whole concept of a date sounded awkward when Cara had explained it to him, but really it was no different than the late nights they had spent out on the road together, talking themselves to sleep as they waited for daylight to return.  If nothing else, it was refreshing to pass the evening with just the two of them.  Hancock liked Cara a lot, but he had missed being the only one at Rose’s side (besides the dog, anyway).  The break seemed good for Rose too… the worried lines smoothed from her face as the night stretched on.

The night grew longer, and eventually they found themselves up on the balcony of the Old State House, watching the passersby slowly empty out of the street as the late hour drove most people into their respective homes.  Like most alcohol-fueled conversations, the topic had inevitably turned to sex, and Hancock was intensely amused by picking apart Rose’s previous sex life.

“So you’re telling me your husband had _zero_ kinks?  None whatsoever?”

It was hard to tell whether the flush in Rose’s cheeks was from the whiskey or the subject.  “He was a pretty straightforward guy, as far as that stuff went.  Got enough adventure on the front lines, I guess.”

So what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done, sexually?”

“Besides you?” she asked archly, and he chuckled.  “Nate and I had sex in a friend’s bathroom during a New Year’s Eve party, before I got pregnant.”

He groaned.  “That’s it?  I had no idea I had so much ground to cover.”

“Do I even want to know what your craziest sex story is?”

He gave her a wolfish grin.  “Let’s see… well there was that time I threw a little party up here in the State House.  Different kinda party than the one you were talkin’ about though, if you catch my drift.  I think there were about six or seven of us-”

Rose waved her hand in surrender.  “Never mind!  Forget I asked.”

He smirked and leaned in close to her, his hand cupping her neck to feel her pulse.  “I love it when you get all modest on me.  You have no idea the things it makes me wanna do to you.”

“Really?” She tugged coyly on the American flag around his waist.  “You wanna go upstairs, then?”

“I don’t plan to wait that long.”

Before she could question what he meant, he pressed her backwards, pinning her up against the brick wall as his lips found her neck.  She hummed, half in pleasure and the other half in bemusement.

“You can’t be serious, John.  People would see.”

“That’s the idea, love,” he replied, his raspy voice dropping into a low purr, and he could feel her shiver as chills went down her spine.  “Never been shy about showin’ off what’s mine.”

He kissed a line up her throat and jaw, pausing to tug lightly at her earlobe with his teeth.  She twisted against him, back arching to push her hips into his hands as he gave her ass a quick squeeze.

“You know, my mother always told me to never put out on a first date…” she purred, eyes hooded.  Her hands tracing the contours of his chest and stomach through his shirt, her fingers curling lightly into the curve of each rib.

“Yeah?  You always do everything she ever told ya?”

Rose’s laugh hitched when he bit down lightly on her collarbone.  “Where’s the fun in that?”

He returned his lips to hers for a kiss that tasted like whiskey and honey, sliding his hand up her leg and teasingly pushing the hem of her dress over her hips.  She jumped at the touch of cool air against her skin, suddenly alert through the warm haze of alcohol as she realized he wasn’t just fooling around.

“ _John!_ ” she hissed. 

“Change your mind that quick?” he asked, speaking against her neck as he leisurely claimed every inch of skin from her shoulders to her jaw.  He brought his free hand up to her breast, rolling his thumb against her nipple through the thin cotton layer between them.

Rose’s nails began to dig lightly into his shoulders.  “No… but there are still other people around…”

“Let ‘em watch,” he said, murmuring into her ear.  He pressed his knee in between her thighs, nudging her legs apart.  “I want ‘em all to burn with envy, knowin’ that the only one who gets to do this to you is me.  That I’m the only one who gets to taste you, to fuck you, to put my hands all over your goddamn gorgeous body.”  He grinned as he felt her grind against him.  “You can tell me to stop at any time, Sunshine.  But it sorta seems to me like you don’t want to.”

Rose’s teeth glimmered in the dull lighting from the street lamps as she smiled.  “You’re a bad influence, John Hancock.”

He chuckled.  “So I’m told.”

He leaned in to kiss her as his fingers caressed their way back down her thigh, painting a trail of goosebumps in their wake before coming to rest between her legs.  She inhaled sharply as he touched her; her hips rocked against his hand, already anxious for more pressure.  He stroked her slowly, drinking in all the little expressions that flitted across her face, and then slid two fingers inside of her, smirking when she swore. 

“You’re already so wet, love,” he teased, though he was stiff as a board himself.  “I think someone might be a closet exhibitionist.”

“You’re terrible,” Rose retorted breathlessly, then whimpered when he pressed against that good spot inside her.

“Nah, seems to me I’m actually doin’ pretty good.”  He could feel her muscles clench around his hand and chuckled.  “That feel good, Sunshine?”  She whined, tongue-tied as continued to curl his fingers in and out of her.  “Forgetting our words already?”

“Fuck you,” she said in a moan, even as she twined her legs with his in an effort to press him closer.

“Oh believe me, I intend to do just that,” he promised.  “I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking you senseless all goddamn night.”

Rose grinned, her chest heaving, but her eyes still flickered over the alleys and street below.  The few passerby walked past with barely more than a curious glance in their direction; a couple of them wolf-whistled, making her blush scarlet, but kept on their way.

Hancock dropped to his knees in front of her, jerking her attention sharply back to him.

“John, what are you doing?!”

He gave her a wicked grin.  “Just say the word, Sunshine.”  He bit down briefly on her hip, grin widening when her back arched off the wall.  “Tell me no, and I’ll stop.”  He nuzzled his face against her thigh.  “Mmm, you smell so fuckin’ good, love.”  He dragged his tongue over her skin, just high enough to earn another needy whimper.

“ _Fuck_.” She was panting, and all of her muscles were trembling as her body demanded release.  “No, don’t stop.”

“You sure?”

“ _Please_!”

God, the places that _please_ could take him.  “Well, if you insist…”

He planted a couple of kisses on her inner thigh, giving her a chance to object, before moving higher to the warm cleft between her legs.  Rose’s hands clenched down on his shoulders as he tasted her; it only took moments before her muscles began to shake.  By now he knew enough to be able to get her off within a couple minutes, if he really wanted to… not that he ever did. 

So he took his time, playing tourist with his tongue while his fingers kept a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of her. Her hips undulated as she tried to find firmer pressure against his hand and his mouth, but he teased her, pulling back a little each time.  It’d be a shame to let the game be over _too_ quickly, after all.  He couldn’t help but smirk when a frustrated growl made it out between the gasps and moans she was trying so hard to suppress.

“Goddamn it, John Hancock, stop being such a- _ah­-_ fucking tease!”

He had her so wound up that she was shaking uncontrollably, barely able to keep her footing in those alluring heels.  His own arousal was straining painfully against his jeans; he wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer himself.

“I want you to say it,” he demanded, as he got back to his feet.  He ground his hips against hers, not bothering to bite back the groan that escaped him with that slight hint of relief.

“I need you,” Rose said quickly, no longer bothering trying to resist.  Her hands yanked the flag off from his waist and scrabbled impatiently to undo his pants.   “Fuck, I need you so badly.”

“Need me to do… what?” he asked lazily, stilling her hands and earning an impatient moan.

 “John Hancock if you don’t fuck me _right now_ I fucking swear to god-”

Music to his ears… or what was left of them.  He hoisted her off the ground, pinning her between him and the wall as he rocked his hips into her.  She cried out loudly enough for her voice to echo off the walls as he entered her, all worries about any witnesses forgotten.

“Fuck, you feel so damn good,” he groaned.  “Bet you love the feeling of my cock in that tight little pussy of yours, eh, Sunshine?”

“Oh god, yes!”  He felt her muscles tighten around him as she spoke, the tension traveling all the way through her legs and stomach. 

He drove into her again and again, savoring the euphoria that came as she repeated his name like a benediction.  He could listen to that all night, every night for the rest of his life, and never tire of it.  And it was for him, and him alone.  Not Danse, not her husband, not for that do-gooder Garvey or any other man that dreamt of finding himself between her legs.  She was _his_.

It wasn’t long before she tightened around his cock, hot and slick and literally screaming as her orgasm torched through her.  There likely wasn’t a soul alive in Goodneighbor who didn’t overhear.  Her body quickly melted against his, but she clung to his neck and matched his thrusts, driving him deeper inside her.  Her breaths were short and punctuated by intoxicating little cries as she pressed her lips against the side of his jaw.

“I want you to come for me,” she said, in a tone that was somehow both beseechingly sweet and demanding.  “I want to feel you come inside me, _right now_.”

He was only too happy to obey.  He buried himself inside of her as he filled her with his irradiated seed, and her name was a hoarse, barely intelligible cry from his lips.  The force of his own orgasm made him brace his hand against the wall to keep his knees from buckling as the pleasure threatened to make all of his bones disappear.  She brought his face back to hers and kissed him as they rode the aftershocks out together, the gentle pressure of her lips helping to bring him back to earth.  There was a quick cheer from someone down on the street and he could feel her chuckle.

“I’m getting you back for this,” she warned him good-humoredly.  “Somewhere down the line I get a free pass to have you wherever and however I want, and I am _definitely_ going to cash that in.”

“Oh, I certainly fucking hope so.”

* * *

**(Rose)**

The next morning Cara sidled into the Old State House as Rose was preparing her things for a quick trip over to Diamond City.  She had the look of a satisfied cat who was curled up innocuously next to an empty birdcage; she settled herself against the wall to watch Rose pack while Ichabod curled up affectionately next to Dogmeat’s dozing form on the bed.

“Heading out?” she asked.

Rose nodded.  “I need to visit Nick and Piper.  I told them both I’d check in once we got back from dealing with the courser; I’m sure they’re worried sick.  I’ve left it too long already.”

“Where’s Hancock?”

“He mentioned something about hassling KLEO for a better gun for you… why?”

Cara shrugged innocently.  “No reason.  Just thought he might still be passed out after all the fun you two had last night.  Sounded like you wore him out quite a bit.”

Rose’s face immediately went as red as her hair.  “You, uh, heard us?”

Cara laughed.  “Sis, I think the entire _town_ heard the two of you last night.  And from what I’ve heard on the street, more than a couple of them saw you go at it, too.”  She arched an eyebrow.  “So the balcony, huh?”

“What about the balcony?”

“Christ!” Rose yelped, making both Ichabod and Dogmeat jump to their feet in alarm.  “Doesn’t anyone knock anymore?”

“Sorry, was told I could find you here.”  Deacon braced his forearm against the doorway, his expression inscrutable behind his dark sunglasses.  “So what’s this about a balcony?”

“Absolutely none of your fucking business, that’s what,” Rose replied testily, while Cara tried in vain to hide her sniggers behind her hand.  “Is the relay finished?  Is that why you’re here?”

Deacon nodded.  “Just about.  Latest word from Tom is that he should have the thing finished within about a day… they’ve been building it out over in Jamaica Plain, so if we head out now we should make it there just as they’re finishing up.  Barring any of the usual battles and bloodshed that accompany trips with you, that is.”  He gave her a quick grin.  “And the less time we have that thing sitting out in the open, the better.”

“Excellent.  Just let me track down Hancock and we can get out of here.”

Deacon hesitated in the doorway for a moment.  “How is the grand old mayor doing?  I don’t have to worry about him stabbing me in the kidney or anything on the way, do I?”

“I’m sure he’s in a much better mood now,” Cara reassured him, with the hint of an impish smile on her face.  Rose surreptitiously kicked her leg as she passed.

“Just leave any talking about the relay up to me, and you should be fine,” Rose replied.  “As a matter of fact, if you could just not talk at all, that’d be best.  I know that’s a near impossibility for you, but…”

“Hey, I can be quiet!  Occasionally.  When the situation calls for it.”

Cara shook her head doubtfully.  “I’m getting more stimpaks.”

Rose sighed.  “This is going to be a long trip.”


	11. Chapter 11

**(Rose)**

They walked nearly nonstop to Jamaica Plain, with only a few quick hours to rest during the darkest hours of the night when it was most difficult for everyone to see.  Part of their rush was driven by Rose’s anxiety to reach her son… and part of it was to keep Hancock from filling Deacon’s skull with lead.  The Railroad agent had been wise enough to avoid talking about anything relating to the Institute or Shaun, but that didn’t keep him from chattering incessantly.  Luckily, Cara heroically occupied most of his attention; she drifted a few feet back and let Deacon tell her many crazy (and in all likelihood, fake) stories about his missions rescuing synths.

Deacon got less garrulous once the Jamaica settlement came into view, though.  The settlement had been one of the first ones Preston had asked Rose to recruit after taking back the Castle; she hadn’t found out that the Railroad used it for a combination safehouse and field base until a considerable time after she had accepted their invitation to join up.  The settlement had grown quite a bit since she had last passed through (the majority of the settlers were no doubt rescued synths), and while not everyone knew her, most knew enough to be able to recognize her.  Their party was greeted with hesitant waves or nods.  She could tell by the thinly pressed lips and tight eyes everyone wore that they weren’t thrilled about the science experiment going on in their backyard.  Well, hopefully things would be back to normal for them quickly enough. 

Once they rounded the corner around a crumbling brick building near the front of the settlement, Rose immediately understood Deacon’s previous concern about their secret leaking out.  The giant contraption was definitely not hard to miss; it consisted of a central platform which rested underneath two intersecting arches, a couple of what looked like satellite receivers, and a rather bulky terminal that connected everything together.  Two hefty generators rattled and hummed nearby.  Any passing trader or settler would have to be both blind and deaf to miss the relay.

Cara examined the main platform with open interest.  “I gotta say, this is pretty amazing.  You guys were able to build all of this out of scrap metal?”

“You better believe it!” Tinker Tom said proudly from where he stood hunched over the terminal.  He was busy tapping away some kind of coding; his eyes never left the screen.  “The Institute takes most of us for anarchistic savages, but I bet they never saw a savage who can build a teleportation device like I can!”

“All the more reason why we rarely let you leave the church,” Desdemona said dryly.  She had emerged from the back door of the house that rested up against the parking lot where the signal relay rested, and her shrewd eyes scrutinized the party warily.  “Brought the whole family along, did you?”

“Always safety in numbers, right Dez?” Deacon asked.  He nudged her shoulder and her gaze shot daggers at him.  “Couldn’t risk our best and brightest agent getting taken out on the way over.  Had to fight our way through an entire horde of deathclaws just to make it out of-”

“I don’t care,” Desdemona interrupted.  “The point is, you’re here now.  Are you ready for this, Rose?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”  Now that she was actually faced with the device itself, she could feel her stomach begin to twist into knots.  She could feel both Hancock’s and Cara’s eyes glued to her face, and did her best to keep her expression impassive; if she revealed how scared she truly felt, they could both use it as an excuse to scrap the whole thing and drag her back to Boston.

“Once Tom finishes synchronizing the signal, you’ll step onto the platform,” Desdemona explained.  “We only get one shot at this, so we can’t mess it up.  If everything proceeds as planned, then you’ll vanish from here… and reappear within the Institute itself, wherever that is.”

“Theoretically,” Tom added in the background.

“And if it explodes or electrocutes her?” Hancock asked coldly.

Tom gave a nervous laugh.  “That won’t happen! Errr, probably.  Most likely will not happen.”

Cara frowned.  “I’m not much for violence myself, but if anything happens to my sister because of you guys, I don’t think I’ll have much of a problem helping Hancock blow you all to hell.”

“It’s going to work,” Rose said, stepping in before a fight could break out in earnest.  “And if- God forbid- something _does_ happen to me, then you two will treat it as a consequence of my choices.  No one from the Railroad is to be held responsible, am I clear?”

“No promises,” Hancock replied stubbornly. 

Rose reached out and briefly squeezed his hand.  “I need you to trust me right now.”

There was a loud clang, and then the noise increased twofold as the platform began to light up and buzz with power.  Hancock frowned and pulled Rose away from the rest of the ground as the machines around them began to whir into life.

“Rose, I don’t like this,” he said.  “We both know what the Institute is capable of.  What if something happens-”

“It won’t.”

His grip on her arm grew so tight it was painful, but he relaxed his hold when he saw her flinch and ran a hand over his face.

“You know you can’t guarantee that,” he countered, knowing that everything was falling on deaf ears but needing to try again anyway.  “You’re the best thing I got goin’ in this life, Sunshine, and I can’t be there to cover your back if something goes south.  I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t make it back to me.”

The distress in his voice nearly broke her heart.  She took a deep breath, steeling herself.  As much as she hated putting him through this- him and Cara both- she was too close to finding Shaun to back down now.

“I’ll come back,” she promised, infinitely thankful when her voice didn’t shake.  “The Institute couldn’t hide from me, and they’re not going to be able to hold me.  You _do_ trust me, right?”

“Trusting you ain’t the problem.”  Hancock doubtfully looked at the signal interceptor, which was powering up quickly and looked on the verge of exploding.  “What if they send back a synth in your place?”

Rose smiled a little sadly, and leaned in to kiss him, lingering for a few moments.  It was a real fear that she had been harboring herself for a couple of weeks now, though clearly her efforts to contain that fear to herself had been in vain.

“Then hopefully you can tell the difference,” she said quietly.  She glanced over at Cara and beckoned her over. 

“Now the two of you listen to me,” she said in a hushed tone.  “I’ve thought about the Institute trying to send a synth back in my place too, and I think I have a way for you to tell the difference.  I spoke with Dr. Amari before we left…  She thinks that it would be possible to replicate what Nick and I did with Kellogg’s brain, but with the two of you instead.”

“Uh, what about brains?”  Cara asked uneasily.  “What are you getting at, Rose?”

“Cara, you know more about my life than any other person on the planet,” Rose explained.  “You know details that no one else is ever going to be able to know.  If you can manage to host John in those memories, then the two of you would have information that would verify my identity as the _real_ me.”  She looked doubtful, so Rose continued.  “From what Amari told me, the Institute can only go back so far when implanting memories into their synths; everything else is just facts used to build their personality.  The way I figure it, anything before I woke up in that vault is safe… the earlier, the better.”

Cara frowned doubtfully.  “Uh, you mean I would have Hancock running around my head?  No offense, but couldn’t I just tell him the stories?”

“I don’t want to risk an Institute agent overhearing or recording you,” Rose countered.  “Amari’s memory loungers aren’t connected to any kind of major network… an Institute spy would have to be on site and hacked into her terminal, which is going to be hard with her standing right there.  And you experience a level of detail in the loungers that just isn’t the same as having someone tell you the details.

“I know this is weird, and a lot to ask of both of you… but if there’s _any_ doubt that I am who I’m supposed to be when I return, then I’m counting on you two to be able to know enough to challenge me.  I can’t trust anyone else to make that call.”

“But that only solves one problem!” Hancock retorted hotly.  “If you get replaced, even if we figure it out, you’re still going to be stuck in the Institute with no way for us to get in, and no way for you to get out!  And that’s _if_ this crazy machine doesn’t just fry you to hell.”  Hancock shut his eyes, resting his forehead against hers.  “ _Please_ don’t go through with this, Rose.  There’s gotta be a better way.”

He was begging, and Rose felt her heart shatter further as she forced herself to step away and up onto the platform.  She would come back; she swore it to herself.  She met Cara’s gaze and saw that her sister’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, but her jaw was set in a stern, strong line.  She nodded, silently affirming her older sister as she tried to draw Hancock back away from the relay.

“Rose!” Hancock reached out to pull her back, but Deacon stepped in to restrain him, sparing a quick look of pity.

“Let her go, man,” Deacon said.  “She’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.”

“Get off me!” Hancock growled back at him.  “All your noble talk about saving the synths, and you’re willing to let her sacrifice her life so that you can get an edge?  You have no idea what they’ll do to her!”

The machine was on full power by this point, and crackling blue electricity started to strike down around the platform.  Rose shifted nervously, every hair on her body standing up in response to the static.

“Tell them whatever they want to hear!” Desdemona told her, yelling to be heard over the crackling of the electricity and the arguing men.  “Make up a cover story, and stick with it!  You _must_ make contact with Patriot.  This is our only chance!”

“I hope you find your son,” Deacon said from her other side, still wrestling to keep Hancock from pulling her back.

Rose nodded, and her eyes locked with Hancock’s.  He finally stilled, futility resting heavy on his shoulders.

“I’ll see you soon,” Rose promised softly, her voice barely audible, and then a huge crack like the sound of a cannon went off.  The world whited out with light and her body buzzed all over, vibrating so hard she felt like she would break apart.  And then there was…. Nothing.

* * *

**(Hancock)**

“Goddammit!” Hancock yelled, pulling back and punching Deacon straight in the face.  He stumbled, but took the hit gracefully.  Cara shrank back and covered her eyes with her hand in an effort to hide the worried tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks.

“Watch yourself, Hancock,” Desdemona warned.  “You’ve been useful so far, but I won’t hesitate to take you out if you don’t rein in your temper.”

“Don’t you dare preach at me,” Hancock growled, rounding on her.  “You just sent the only person who’s ever mattered in my life straight into the fucking lion’s den.  You’re lucky I don’t kill you where you stand.”

“I’d like to see you-”

“He’s right, Dez,” Deacon interrupted, stepping between them and rubbing his bruising jaw gingerly.  “Let him vent.  I’d be pretty pissed myself if someone sent my girl off to the Institute.”

“Then why’d you do it?” Hancock demanded.

“You know why, man.  Besides, her son is with them.  The woman has taken on the entire Commonwealth to find that kid; you think we would’ve stood a chance if we tried to stop her?  At least this way there could be a win for everyone.”

“Yeah, it’d be great if everyone could stop the yelling and just, you know, put the big guns away,” Tinker Tom said nervously.

“He’s right,” Cara agreed, clearing her throat and wiping at her face.  Hancock glared at her, and she shrugged, folding her arms over her chest.  “I don’t think we could’ve stopped her even if we chained her to Goodneighbor’s gates, H.  Nothing blew up and as far as we know, she’s intact wherever she is.  So as much as it sucks, we got to do what she said and wait.”

Hancock was still furious, but he had to recognize the truth in Cara’s words.  If Rose ever came back, he was going to fucking handcuff the two of them together.

“Hey, what did she say to you, before she left?” Deacon asked, while Desdemona and Tom made preparations to leave.

Hancock blinked, remembering her words.  She wanted him to play tourist through Cara’s memories of the two of them, the same way she had done after they had taken out Kellogg.  His eyes flicked over to the younger sister and he saw that she was watching him with the same level of apprehension that he felt.

“Uh, nothing,” he replied gruffly, turning to leave.  “Just goodbye.”

It was time to go pay another visit to the Memory Den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will fully admit that the memory thing is 100% writer's indulgence on my part. But this fic is first and foremost written for my own enjoyment, soooo..... ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies in advance for the in-game dialogue. =P

Seconds later, Rose appeared in a circular room filled with odd panels and blinking lights.  She dropped to her knees and drew in a shuddering breath as her body coped with the shock of being rapidly de-molecularized and reformed.  They had done it.  She had survived.  And now, she was in the Institute itself.

She took a few minutes to gather herself, and then slowly pushed herself to her feet.  There were no alarms sounding, and no guards running in to gun her down.  Odd.  Even so, she gripped her shotgun tightly, relieved to see that it had traveled with her through the teleporter.  Her pack had made it as well; she was comforted by the weight of the ammo and stimpaks that rested on her shoulder.

She stepped out of the circular room and into some kind of control room.  She was immediately struck by how clean everything was… after spending some much time in the Commonwealth, it was unnatural looking.  Every surface gleamed white and silver, with not so much as a speck of dust to be seen.  Once her brain processed the radical differences, she began snooping through the drawers and cupboards, pocketing a few stimpaks and a couple aerosols of Addictol.  Old-ish habits died hard, it seemed.

“Hello.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling around with her shotgun ready to fire at the nearest threat.  But the room was still empty; the voice was coming over a loudspeaker.

“I wondered if you might make it here,” the voice continued.  “You’re quite resourceful.  I am known as Father; the Institute is under my guidance.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rose muttered under her breath.  Father?  It made me him sound like some sort of cult leader… or a god.

“I know why you’re here,” _Father_ continued, as she walked cautiously down a pathway that led to some sort of glass elevator.  “I’d like to discuss things with you, face-to-face.  Please, step into the elevator.”

On command, the glass doors slid open noiselessly to invite her inside.  Rose hesitated, wary.  But all the other doors were locked; she didn’t have too many other options.  With a white-knuckle grip on her weapons, she stepped into the small pod, jerking slightly when it began to descend.

“I can only imagine what you’ve heard, what you think of us,” Father said.  It seemed he could isolate speakers to follow her as she journeyed further into the Institute.  _Swell._   “I’d like to show you that you may have… the wrong impression.”

At that, the elevator dropped into a huge chamber, several stories deep with countless rooms.  Rose felt her jaw drop open; the place was insane.  They even had trees, _green_ trees, and grass, running water.  All around were people dressed in white labcoats, going about their business and barely paying any mind to the dirty, armored stranger coming down into their midst.  If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that she was standing in the middle of a pre-war courtyard for a research lab or university, not underground in a secret post-apocalyptic facility.  It bothered her that no one seemed to be overly interested in her as the glass elevator slowly descended.  It was almost as though her presence was… expected.

“Welcome to the Institute,” Father continued, notes of pride in his voice. “This is its reality.  This place, these people, the work we do.  For over a hundred years, we’ve dedicated ourselves to humanity’s survival.  Decades of research, countless experiments and trials… a shared vision of how science can help shape the future.  It has never been easy, and our actions have often been misinterpreted by those who live aboveground.  Someday, perhaps, we can show them what we have accomplished.  But for now, we must remain underground.”

The elevator had reached the bottom floor.  The doors slid open instantly, and Rose stumbled into the hallway, feeling off-balance.  Her mind was reeling, struggling to make sense of what she had seen.  Whatever she had pictured the Institute to be, this hadn’t been it.

Father continued on, either ignoring or not noticing her mental overload.  “There’s too much at stake here.  Things above are… not stable, as you’ve seen.  I’d like to talk to you about what we can do, for everyone.  But that can wait.  You are here for a very specific, very personal reason.  You are here for your son.”

Rose found another elevator at the end of the hallway, and with a resigned huff stepped into it and allowed it to take her where it would.  After a few moments the doors opened, and she felt her heart stop when she saw what was on the other side.  Shaun! 

She ran up to him, cursing when she realized that he was locked in a room with glass walls.  Her first thought was whether or not that glass would be bulletproof, but she didn’t want to frighten him by firing a gun at the room if she could help it.  He didn’t even seem to notice her at first; he sat on the floor, contentedly playing with some toys

Rose put her palm against the glass.  “S… Shaun?”

“Huh?”  The boy turned around, green eyes widening in surprise.  “Who are you?”

Rose stared at him, drinking in every detail.  He was around ten now, like she had seen in Kellogg’s memories.  Nate’s dark hair and solid structure was evident in his appearance, but she could see herself too, in his eyes and the shape of his mouth, the paleness of his skin.

“Shaun, I’m… I’m your mom,” she said, almost having forgotten to speak.  “I’m your mother.”

The boy frowned.  “What are you talking about?  Where’s Father?”

She blinked back tears, struggling to keep control.  “It’s okay that you don’t remember.  You were a baby when they took you from me.  It’s been a long time.  But I found you!  Are you okay?  They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Shaun was beginning to get distressed.  He backed up from the glass, face twisting in some negative emotion.  “Who are you?  I don’t know you!  Father!  Father!”

“Shaun, please!” Rose pleaded, sinking to her knees in front of the glass. “I’m your mother!  You have no idea what I’ve been through to find you.  Please, just listen to me!”

“Father!  Help me!  There’s someone here; help me!”

“Shaun… S9-23, recall code Cirrus.”

Abruptly, Shaun appeared to pass out, going limp on his feet.  Rose looked up and saw an elderly man standing to her right; she had never noticed him come in.

Immediately, she rounded on him.  “What did you do to my son?!”

The man nodded, unperturbed.  “Fascinating, but disappointing.  The child’s responses were not at all what I anticipated.  He’s a prototype, you understand.  We’re only just now beginning to explore the effects of extreme emotional stimuli.”  He spread his hands in a peaceful gesture.  “Please, try to keep an open mind.  I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been been fraught with challenges.  Let’s start anew.  I am Father, leader of the Institute.”

“What did you do to my son?” Rose demanded, biting off each word in a dangerous growl.  “Give me Shaun!  The _real_ Shaun!  Right now!”

“I know, I know,” Father said, his tone maddeningly calm, like that of a shrink dealing with an unruly patient.  “You’ve gone through such lengths to find him.”

Rose pumped her shotgun in warning.  “I could kill you, _right now_.  If you don’t give me my son, I will!  You’ve been watching me.   You know I’m not bluffing.”

Father nodded.  “I do know, and there would be nothing I could do to stop you.  I need you to realize that this situation is a lot more complicated than you could have imagined.”

Rose laughed; it sounded bitter and half-crazed, even to her own ears.  “ _More_ complicated?  I get frozen for 210 years, wake up in a monster-filled wasteland with my entire family dead or kidnapped, and I just hijacked some classical music radio station to _teleport_ here only to find a freaking prototype of my son!  It doesn’t get more complicated than that!”

“I’m afraid it does.”  Father sighed.  “You have traveled very far, and suffered a great deal, to find your son.  Your tenacity and dedication have been awarded.  It’s good to finally meet you, after all this time.  You see, _I_ am Shaun.  I am your son.”

Rose rocked back as though he had slapped her.  She stared disbelievingly at the man in front of her, easily thirty years her senior, if not more.

“That’s impossible!” she said, shaking her head.  “No.  My son is still just a child.  Why are you doing this to me?”

Father’s expression was sympathetic.  “I promise you that this is not a trick.  I know this is a lot to take in.  In the vault, you had no concept of the passage of time.  You were released, and went looking for the baby boy you had lost.  But then you learn that your son is not an infant, but a ten-year-old boy, and you believed that ten years had passed.  Is it really so hard to accept that it was not ten, but sixty years?  _That_ is the reality.”

Rose felt like she had been punched in the gut.  _Sixty years?_ The room started to swim before her eyes, and she held a hand to her head to try and steady herself.

“Here I am, raised by the Institute, and now its leader,” Father- now Shaun- said, and she couldn’t help but detect that note of pride she had heard earlier.

“I don’t… I can’t…”  Vertigo flooded her head as she began to go into shock, overloaded by the emotional trauma.  Unable to hold on any longer, she blacked out.

* * *

A small, persistent beeping wormed its way through her subconscious, and eventually Rose was able to latch onto it to pull herself awake.  She blinked open her eyes and noticed she was in another white room, lying on a cot with a blanket covering her.  The beeping was coming from the machine next to her, tracking her heart rate and oxygen levels.  She felt a pinch when she moved her arm and noticed that she was hooked to an IV.  She moved to pull it out, not trusting whatever substance was in it.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

She jumped, not having noticed Father- Shaun- sitting near the foot of the bed.  He was watching her with the expression of the scientifically curious, cataloguing her reactions.

“You passed out,” he explained calmly.  “Understandable, given the level of physical and emotional stress you had just put yourself through.  I had you brought up here to my chambers… I thought that might be a more relaxed environment for you to wake up in, rather than on a cot in our medical wing.”

Rose wasn’t ready to talk yet, so he continued.  “I took the liberty of having our doctors give you a brief physical examination while you were unconscious… just to check for any injuries or communicable illnesses.  For having spent so much time above ground, you are in remarkably good health… though your scars are a testament to the battles you’ve been through.  Not many people, let alone young women, could have survived what you have.”

Rose frowned, feeling violated instead of comforted by the observation.  “That couldn’t have waited until I woke up?”

“We needed to insure that you were not carrying any illnesses that could infect our population here,” Shaun said matter-of-factly.  “Having been as isolated as we have been for so long, a simple influenza virus could quickly become devastating.  It was best to examine you as quickly as possible.”

“Your people do not touch me without my permission.  _Ever_.”

“From this point onward, they will not.”

Rose shifted and swung her feet over the side of the bed, but didn’t stand up.  She wasn’t sure if being unconscious had given her brain time to process everything, or if she was just feeling calmer as the result of some drug that they had given her.  Either way, she found herself more willing to listen to the answers Shaun had to give her.

“They kidnapped you, Shaun,” she said quietly.  “They stole you from me.  It was wrong.”

Shaun lifted his shoulders.  “Right and wrong are irrelevant.  They did what they needed to in order to ensure humanity’s survival.”

“They _killed_ your father!”

Shaun had the grace to look somewhat ashamed.  “Yes, I read the reports.  It seems that was an unfortunate bit of collateral damage.”

Rose’s face twisted. “Collateral damage?  Are you kidding me?  Nate was your _father_ , my husband!  Your man gunned him down in cold blood!”

At that, Shaun was unapologetic.  “Yes.  At the time I was… taken, the year 2227, the Institute was just beginning to make strides in synth production.  But it was never enough.  Scientific curiosity and the goal of perfection drove them onward.  They wanted to make the perfect machine.  So they followed the best example they had:  the human being.”

Rose’s brow creased in confusion.  “What are you getting at?”

“Human beings are capable of anything, and the Institute wanted machines that could match that level of potential.  They started designs for the third generation of synths, the ones you see today.  But even though they had already spent generations underground, there was still radiation damage in their DNA.  They needed an untainted specimen to make the designs work.  Our family- frozen, untouched by time or the atomic bombs- was the ideal solution.”

“So why didn’t they just de-freeze all of us?  Wake us up as a family and bring us in together?  Or why didn’t any of the other people who made it into the vault work?”

“There was some concern about the efficacy of the designs,” Shaun explained.  “It was prudent to leave you and my father in cryo as backups in case something went wrong.  The Institute chose us because you were the only couple to bring a child with you… someone who hadn’t yet had the chance to damage themselves through their life choices.  Ultimately my DNA was successful… every synth you see today has been made with the help of my genetic code.  That’s why they all refer to me as Father.”

“And here I was worrying that there would be a creepy reason why they called you that,” Rose replied sarcastically.

“A sense of humor is good… it shows you’re coping,” Shaun said, and Rose resisted rolling her eyes.  “But then, you’ve always been adaptable.  You would not have made it here if you were otherwise.”  Shaun stood.  “I know we have more to discuss, but the Institute is on the verge of some important breakthroughs.  Your presence would be… appreciated, as we approach them. 

“I’ve been a part of something amazing here,” he continued, eyes lighting up.  “I’ve helped build a life for myself, and the people of the Institute.  And now, after all these years, you have an opportunity to help with that.  Doesn’t that intrigue you?”

A big part of Rose wanted to tell him he was crazy, but she held her tongue.  Desdemona’s warning to tell them what they wanted to hear rang in her head.  She may have found her son- as twisted and dissatisfying a reality it was- but there was still the problem of the enslaved synths that needed rescuing.

So, after a moment, Rose said, “Yes, I think so.  You want me to stay here, in the Institute?”

“Yes, that is what I propose,” Shaun affirmed.  “The Institute can provide a better life than anything above ground.  And to be clear; you would not be a prisoner here.  You are welcome to come and go as you please.  Though I encourage you to take your time to get to know your home here; walk around, meet the Division heads.  They can fill you in on all our projects.”

He made to leave, and then paused and turned back as though forgetting something.  “Preparations are being made for a room of your own, but in the meantime you are welcome to rest here.  Clean clothes and any hygienic products you may need have been placed in the washroom for you; I imagine it’s been quite a while since you’ve had the luxury of a real shower.”  He gave her a small smile, and left.

She waited until the door closed, and then resolutely yanked the IV out of her arm.  It appeared that they had just hooked her up to some fluids, but she had no way of knowing what else they had mixed in there. 

Unable to resist the temptation, she walked into the bathroom and looked around.  It was simple, minimalist, just like the rest of the Institute.  A white jumpsuit, similar to what she had seen on the other scientists on her way down, rested on the sink.  A fluffy white towel hung from a rack on the wall, and the shower was stocked with honest-to-God shampoo, conditioner, and soap.

“I guess a shower couldn’t hurt…” she murmured.  It was easy to operate: only one button, and immediately warm water began pouring out of the showerhead.  After doing a quick check for any cameras or other monitoring devices, she stripped down and stepped in.

A groan escaped her when she felt the water cascade over her body.  She couldn’t even remember the last time she had a _real_ shower.  Most of the time keeping clean meant sponge baths with old rags and whatever water source was handy; any place that managed to rig running water in the Commonwealth still lacked heating, and the pressure was always shit.

Eagerly, she poured some of the shampoo into her hand and lathered it into her hair, marveling as she saw the dirt wash out down the drain.  She repeated the procedure with the conditioner, and scrubbed her body with the soap until her skin was pink.

A few minutes later, she stood wrapped in a towel and examining her reflection in the mirror.  She would have lingered longer, but the shower had some sort of timer on it to prevent over-use of water.

She ran a hand through her hair, freshly combed and free of tangles.  It had grown much longer since the last time she had gotten a good look at herself; when she had exited the cryo tank, her hair had fallen around her shoulders.  Now, it hung nearly to her chest.  Some of the previous shine and vibrancy had been lost, probably due to poor nutrition, and the auburn color had lightened somewhat from long hours in the sun.  Her face, too, had changed.  New lines had appeared around her eyes, and all of the angles seemed sharper.  She touched the scar across her right eyebrow- given to her by a feral- and another just under the curve of her jaw.  She didn’t bother checking the scars on the rest of her body.

She wasn’t able to find a pair of scissors – or any sharp object for that matter- so giving herself a haircut was out.  Instead, she pulled her locks back in a French braid.  She wasn’t big on the idea of wearing the Institute jumpsuit, but the thought of donning her road-worn clothes again after getting so clean made her skin crawl.  Besides, it would probably be a good idea to be seen assimilating into their society.

Clean and rested, she decided it was time to go out and explore the rest of the Institute.  She still had to find a terminal to upload Tinker Tom’s secret message, and she thought that Shaun might be right… it would be a good idea to see just what exactly the Institute scientists were up to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer wish fulfillment chapter! xD

**(Cara)**

“I’m not so sure about this,” Cara confessed, as she stared up at the sign over their heads, gently illuminated in pink light.  “I mean, I trust Rose, and it’s not like I have anything against you at all, but I’m not too hot on the idea of someone shifting around in my head.”

“Not big on the plan myself,” Hancock confessed, tossing the butt of a cigarette to the side.  He had been chain-smoking nearly nonstop since leaving Jamaica Plain.  “But she obviously thinks it’s our best shot.  The new synths are pretty damn convincing.”

“I think I’d know if she was my real sister or a fake.”

Hancock shrugged.  “Maybe.  But if something happens to you between now and when she gets back, then it’s up to the rest of us to figure out the truth.  And you got a lotta information I don’t, kid.”

“You don’t think you’d be able to tell?” 

To that, Hancock had no reply.  He mutely lit another cigarette, motions nearly robotic himself, and kept his head lowered so the brim of his tricorn covered his eyes.  Dogmeat whined quietly and nudged Hancock’s hand with his nose, but he merely shook him off and shoved both hands into the pockets of his coat. 

Cara felt an uncharacteristic urge to shake him or strike him… anything to break him out of this black mood.  When Rose had disappeared in a flash like some fancy magic trick, it was like he became a different person.  His customary snark and good humor had been replaced by a tense, silent worry.  It unsettled her almost as much as not being able to reach her sister. 

But they couldn’t both afford to fall to pieces.  So instead of hitting him, Cara settled for folding her arms across her ribcage and sighing.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” she muttered to herself, and then more loudly, “Urgh.  Fine.  Let’s get this over with, then.”

Dr. Amari was actually upstairs when they entered, rather than lurking in her surgery below as she usually did.  Her eyes were fixed to a computer terminal that rested behind the circular platform where Irma was generally lounging.  She barely glanced up at them, though she did spare a moment to gaze disapprovingly at Dogmeat and Ichabod, and at the cigarette still clamped between Hancock’s thin lips.

“Mr. Mayor... and Miss Alexander.  To what to I owe the pleasure?” 

“Evening, Amari,” Hancock replied, inclining his head.  “And remember, it ain’t mayor anymore.  That’s gonna be Fahre’s gig now.”

“Of course.”  She looked the two of them over wryly, finally pulling her eyes from whatever she was reading.  “Seeing as the two of you are standing in front of me, and that your better half is noticeably absent, I’m going to assume that Rose’s efforts were successful?”

“God, I hope so,” Cara said, brow pinched. 

Ichabod nuzzled at her thigh, stressed by her worry.  The young deathclaw was growing quickly; his horns now reached past her hips when he was on all fours.  Dogmeat whined as well.  He laid on the floor with his ears back and head drooping.  He had been frantic when Rose had vanished, and it had taken them nearly a half hour to get him to stop searching around the settlement for her.  Cara had fallen asleep with her hand wrapped around his chain collar when they had stopped to rest on the walk back because she had been afraid he’d run back to Jamaica when they weren’t looking.

“Why don’t you follow me down to the basement?” Amari asked.  “Just do me a favor and try not to let the animals touch anything.  I’d rather not to have to sanitize the entire room after this is over.”

They followed Amari’s thin, tired form down the stairs in silence.  In the surgery, Amari fiddled with her terminal, entering in various passcodes faster than either of them could keep up with.

“I’m assuming that Rose explained to you two what she wants me to do?” she asked.

“She wants to put Hancock in my head,” Cara said, her tone still doubtful.

Amari nodded.  “You’re a brave one.”

Hancock rolled his eyes.  “Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna raid all your most secret thoughts.  I ain’t _that_ much of a creep.”

Amari raised her eyebrows.  “Reassuring to know, but I was actually referring to the fact that Miss Alexander is willing to let _anyone_ into her memories.  That is not a privilege I would necessarily grant even to those closest to me.”

“What can we expect?” Cara asked.

“It’s hard for me to say with absolute certainty,” Amari replied, hand to her chin.  “I imagine it will be very much similar to Rose’s experience with Kellogg’s… remains.  In that case, from what Rose has told me, you will see the memories from an outsider’s perspective, but you will be able to feel the host’s emotions and possibly other sensations associated with the memory.  Even with what little brain we had, Rose was extremely immersed.  It can be… disorienting.”

Hancock and Cara shared an uneasy look.  “Great,” Cara replied sarcastically.  “That won’t be weird at all.”

“If it’s any consolation, I believe that you will exercise much more control over what he witnesses,” Amari said.  “Rose was navigating the brain of a dead man, with only my limited guidance.  Mr. Valentine was present solely as a host for the Institute technology.  As a living, organic host, it is my prediction that you will be able to consciously guide Hancock through the memories you deem important or relevant, and you may be able to communicate to him through your own thoughts… though I am not certain he will be capable of replying in turn.”

Cara relaxed marginally at that.  “And if anything goes wrong?”

“If either of you begin to exhibit signs of distress, I will be able to pull you back and wake you up.”

“Let’s get this over with then,” Hancock said.

He settled himself into one of the two loungers, and after a moment of hesitation Cara lowered herself into the one opposite of him.  Amari checked briefly to make certain that the two of them were positioned properly before returning to her computer.

“Now Mr. May… Hancock, I am assuming that you are not currently under the influence of any drugs or medication?” she asked, and then held up her palms when he gave her a disparaging look.  “It is my duty as a medical professional to ask.  Any drugs in your system could alter your perception of what Cara is trying to show you, or could have dangerous, unforeseen side effects.”

“I’m clean, for now,” he said.  “Not makin’ any promises for when this thing’s over, though.”

“Once you two are disconnected you are free to do as many drugs as you like, so long as do not attempt to overdose.”

“You’re a real killjoy sometimes, you know that, doc?”

She didn’t respond.  She typed a brief command into the terminal, and the pneumatics of the loungers hissed slightly as they began to seal shut.  A few seconds later a light sedative began to filter into the pods, and the two of them were asleep within minutes.

* * *

**(Hancock)**

The outside world faded away.  For a seconds there was only darkness, and then Hancock felt himself jerk slightly as the feeling of another presence joined his.  Though the sensation was unnerving, it was undeniably Cara; it felt like gentleness, stubbornness, curiosity.  The only way he could think to describe it was if her voice had been made into some sort of emotion, instead of sound.  And speaking of emotions, he could feel all of hers… not necessarily like they were his own, but just so that he was aware they were there.  He knew the instant she noticed his presence, because he could sense her surprise… which was followed quickly by a combination of wariness and interest. 

There were flashes of other feelings too, like uncertainty and – very briefly- fear.  Those disappeared quickly in a spike of obstinate determination.  Another moment later and a scene began to form. 

In the space of a few breaths he found himself standing on the sidewalk in front of some large brick building.  It was a bright, sunny day, and all of the colors were more vibrant than he’d ever remembered seeing.  It felt like being high on Day Tripper… a dream, but far more vivid and intense.  Gone were the destroyed buildings, the trash and refuse that littered pretty much every conceivable corner of the wasteland; instead everything was intact and gleaming.  The people passing on the sidewalk all wore new clothing, without a trace of armor or weaponry.  Judging from all the children running around the yard and the various playground structures, he had to be in front of some kind of school.

 _Urghh, this is uncomfortable_ , came Cara’s voice, like she was standing right next to him.  _Okay, hopefully you can hear me, because I sure as shit can’t tell what you’re thinking.  I thought this was a good place to start… one of my first really clear memories of my sister.  You can find us over by the front doors._

His eyes followed her direction, and surely enough he spotted two little girls, one with bright red hair, and the other a tiny blonde.  He walked over and examined the scene that was unfolding with interest.  Cara was crying and hiding behind Rose, who was screaming red-faced at a boy probably about her age.

_I was in kindergarten at this time… uh, that’s like the first level of grade school.  I was about five.  Rose was twelve and already in the seventh grade.  The boy she’s yelling at was named Bobby-something… he was a bully, and had shoved me down when I tried to join in on a game of tag.  Rose had always included me in her games, so I didn’t know that other big kids wouldn’t want to play with a baby like me… and he was definitely a jerk about it._

_Obviously, the first thing I did was run to get my big sister.  She demanded that he apologize to me, and when he didn’t…_

Young Bobby taunted Rose, hands on his hips and tongue out.  As he watched, Rose bared her teeth and shoved him backwards.  He stumbled but caught himself, and then swung his fist at her stomach.  Rose took the hit and doubled over for a moment, but just when Bobby began laughing victoriously, she lunged forward and tackled him around the waist.  The two children fell over and she pummeled him with her tiny fists.  Cara curled in a ball and hid her face behind a stuffed bear she had been dragging with her, looking petrified.

Hancock would have chuckled to himself if he’d been capable of it.  Already, this pint-sized version of Rose had the same fighting spirit that he loved in her adult counterpart.  He also felt a strange surge of love that was very different from the kind of love he felt for Rose, and realized that it had to be emanating from Cara.  Pride, gratitude, and something close to veneration.

Within a couple moments two teachers appeared and pulled the two kids apart.  One consoled the boy, who was crying with an eye that was already turning black and a bloodied lip.  The other restrained Rose as she tried to leap back into the fray; he pulled her away by the scruff of her shirt and admonished her in stern tones.  Cara began crying again and toddled after Rose and the teacher.

 _I was sad that I got her in trouble_ , Cara explained, with a touch of humor directed towards her younger self.  _I think that was Rose’s first fistfight.  She got caned in the principal’s office if I recall correctly… never blamed me for it though.  And Bobby stayed terrified of her all the way up until they graduated._

The scene faded, and for a few beats they were in blackness again while Cara sorted herself out.  There was a rising anxiety that he assumed was hers as she tried to decide what memory to share next.  Eventually the world began to reappear, and this time he found himself standing in a hospital room.  It reminded him a bit of Amari’s surgery, only there were far more machines. 

He spotted the girls easily this time.  Rose sat in a chair next to a bed, with Cara standing beside her; she was much older, a young woman now.  Her long hair was curled and her face was heavily made up, though at the moment her cheeks were covered in dark streaks from tears.  She clenched the hand of the man lying in the bed in front of her; he was wane, pale and shriveled like the life had been sucked out of him.  He was hooked up to every machine Hancock could see.  Cara had tears in her eyes as well, but her gaze was on her sister.

A deep sadness flavored with guilt washed through him, and it made him want to pull away from the scene; but as soon as the desire struck him, he felt a sudden jolt of irritation slice through the melancholia.

 _Could you not?_ Cara’s voice demanded.  _It’s hard enough to focus without you trying to pull away into other memories.  This one sucks, I know.  Sorry.  But it’s one of my clearer memories of my childhood._

_This is the last time we saw our father.  I was ten… Rose had just turned eighteen.  She’d probably tear me limb from limb if she knew I showed this to you, so do me a favor and don’t mention it unless you have to._

_Our father with ill with cancer in his blood.  The doctors had fought it for a long time, but it was aggressive.  He fell into a coma and had to be put on life support.  Mom didn’t handle it well... she didn’t want to face saying goodbye, I think.  I didn’t understand too much of what was going on… just that Dad was sick, and Mom and Rose were both sad all the time._

_Dad was in and out of the hospital a lot when I was growing up, so I didn’t have much of a relationship with him.  But Rose was his princess._ He felt a deep burn in his chest at that:  a jealousy that Cara couldn’t entirely repress.  _Watching him suffer killed her… I think that’s why she’s so gung-ho about helping people out now.  If she has the power to affect positive change, she can’t say no._

Another fade to black.  Cara was quicker with her construction now; only a few seconds passed before new details began to form.  Cara’s sorrow was replaced by the warmth of a protective love… an affection that was deep enough for Hancock to feel in his own bones.  He could have sighed in relief; this was already infinitely preferable to the last memory.

 _Okay, I think this is the last one_ , Cara thought.  Her voice was coming more slowly now.  _This is taking a lot more energy than I thought.  I feel like I just pulled an all-nighter before a final._

They were in a hospital again.  But this time it was Rose in the bed, not her father.  Hancock saw a man who had to be Nate standing beside her, with an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.  The sight made his own green-eyed monster growl threateningly, but he shook it off; there was no point in being envious of a dead man. 

Both Rose’s eyes and her husband’s were fixed on Cara, who stood on the other side of the bed with her arms cradling a small blue bundle.

 _This was the day after Shaun was born.  Mom had come by briefly, but said she had to work and couldn’t stay long._ Heavy frustration there.  _I think she just couldn’t swallow her pride long enough to admit that Rose had created something amazing.  I may not have been the biggest fan of his father, but let me tell you… I’ve never loved anyone as instantaneously as I loved that little boy._

The love on all of their faces would have almost been comical if it weren’t so genuine.  Rose was positively radiant, even exhausted as she was.  Her expression really drove home how she had been so compelled to find her son, after all this time.  She watched that baby with nothing but total adoration.  He’d never seen her look at _anyone_ \- not him, not Dogmeat, not Cara, no one- the way she looked at her son.

_Rose and I didn’t live that far away from each other… Albany to Sanctuary may be a long walk, but it’s only about a two-hour drive with traffic.  Even then, I only saw Shaun a couple more times after this, before the bombs fell.  School and work and life got in the way.  There aren’t a lot of things I regret more than not making the time to visit them.  Maybe Rose waking me up here is my second chance._

Shaun began to fuss in Cara’s arms.  Rose reached out for him, and the instant he was tucked against her breast he quieted, falling back asleep.  She cooed at him, tracing the lines of his tiny face.  She seemed oblivious to the fact that her husband and sister were watching.

 _Rose would have been such a good mom._ Will _be such a good mom_ , Cara amended herself.  _I know she doubts herself now, but she deserves to have this.  All of this._

Hancock couldn’t agree more, though watching the scene gave him a queer, queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  If Cara noticed, she didn’t pass comment on it.  She simply lingered silently in the memory for a few moments, focusing on Rose and her son until everything else went fuzzy.

The final memory blacked out.  A few seconds later Hancock felt himself wake back up; he blinked in the bright light of the surgery, and was surprised to find that there were tears in his eyes.  When was the last time he had actually been _that_ moved by something?  Probably never.

Hastily, he wiped his eyes dry.  Amari tactfully stayed bent over her computer, pretending not to notice.  Cara was only just beginning to stir.  She pulled herself back into reality with a groan; Ichabod immediately scurried to her side and wiggled impatiently while she pushed herself out of the pod.  Dogmeat was still despondently laying by the door, though his eyes did flicker to the girl… no doubt making certain she was okay.

“Let’s not do that again,” Cara muttered, hand to her head.  “It feels like there’s an ice pick jammed through my eye.”

Hancock winced empathically; his head was beginning to throb too.  The bright lights of Amari’s surgery burned into his eyes more so than they usually did.  All he wanted to do was make it back to the Old State House and huff Jet until he passed out…  though Med-X might be a better fit for his headache.

   “Rose experienced some discomfort after searching Kellogg’s memories as well,” Amari said, her sharp eyes assessing the two of them closely.  “I expect that any pain you feel now will fade within an hour or so… though if it persists, I insist you let me know at once.”

“I just need to walk it off, I think,” Cara said as she got to her feet. 

She was avoiding looking at Hancock, but he couldn’t blame her.  The whole experience had been incredibly personal… especially for her, since she’d been the host.  He had just been along for the ride.  Now that they’d gone through it, he thought he agreed with Amari; he didn’t think he could lay his own memories bare for someone to investigate like that.  Cara had a lot more steel in her than met the eye.

He followed her back out to the street, silently processing what he’d learned.  She’d made a good choice in the memories; each one explained a little more about Rose, but were nothing that the Institute would be able to replicate unless Rose told them herself.

Cara was walking away with her deathclaw at one side and Dogmeat at the other.  Hancock cleared his throat a little awkwardly and she stopped, looking back at him.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?” he asked.

She didn’t smile, but her gaze was warm.  “You’ve got enough worrying to do without adding me to the mix,” she told him pointedly.  “I just need to think things through for a while.”  She started to walk off again, but paused.  “Are _you_ going to be okay?”

He shrugged, not really having an answer.  She nodded as if she understood anyway.

“Okay.  But you come find me if you get the urge to do anything especially stupid.”

* * *

Later that night, Hancock stepped through the door of his room in the Old State House, and fought the urge to roll his eyes in irritation.  Cara was completely passed out on the bed.  She was curled up in the middle of the mattress, with her face buried in the pillow Rose normally used.  Dogmeat was there too, tucked in a ball against Cara’s stomach.  Ichabod was entertaining himself in a corner of the room, chewing on bones from some kind of animal.

Hancock stood in the doorway for a couple of minutes, quietly watching Cara sleep.  Their little shared mind-trip notwithstanding, it was surprising to him how protective he felt of the kid.  What the hell was it with this family?  He’d spent most of his adult life being happy with holding others at a distance… but these two had worked their way into being people he’d rather not live without.  Or in Rose’s case, _wouldn’t_ live without.

He crossed the room and covered Cara with the blanket that she’d kicked down to the end of the bed.  She sighed, automatically snuggling down into it until only the top of her head was visible.  She was probably two decades younger than him if a day, and already was handling this whole fucked-up situation better than he was.  Not that age really mattered much, but still.

She trusted Rose to be okay because she had never known her sister to _not_ be okay.  He’d gathered that much when they’d been linked together in Amari’s pods.  For all her intelligence, Cara was naïve enough to believe that there wasn’t anything the world could throw at them that her big sis wasn’t strong enough to take on.

He was the one who had seen Rose battered and broken, who had been a witness to her flirting with the edge of irreparable.  She had the resilience of a goddamn goddess, but he was painfully, _painfully_ aware that she was not invulnerable like one. 

He hadn’t lived in fear of the Institute in a long time.  That didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of exactly how much they were capable of.  Rose thought they could be reasoned with, but an organization that kidnapped people on a regular basis and that would send a coldblooded killer to snatch an infant from his mother’s breast wasn’t one that would be swayed by intimidation or tearful pleas.  They weren’t likely to be thrilled that she managed to break in, either (and she had managed it, because the other options were fucking unthinkable).  He knew what he’d do to someone if he was in their place.  He didn’t have much reason to hope that they’d be any more civilized, or merciful.

Cara stretched briefly and frowned, like she could feel the darkness that swirled around him like his own motherfucking storm cloud.  He backed out of the room as quietly as he had come in.  He’d let her take comfort where she could find it.  It’s not like he’d have been able to sleep, anyway.

Rose would come back.  She _had_ to.

And if she didn’t, then he’d gut every one of the motherfuckers who hurt her.  Starting with those quacks at the Institute, and ending with the self-righteous jackasses who sent her there alone in the first place.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again about the story re-telling... things pick up again in the next chapter. I promise <3.

**(Rose)**

It didn’t take Rose long to finish her exploration of the Institute.  Over the course of about a day and a half, she had met the heads of the different departments, like Shaun had suggested, and had found them… shockingly normal.  Barring their indiscriminate prejudice against those living above ground and their nearly universal belief that synths were mindless machines, of course.  And whether it was due to Shaun’s influence, or the fact that they were all already so trusting of each other, no one paid much mind when she did some snooping off of the beaten path.

It wasn’t difficult to break into the abandoned sector of Bioscience.  The lock was simple, and the door unguarded… security was probably low because no one would really have a reason to go in there, except for her.  Taking care of what little security there was hadn’t been a problem, and she had even been able to find a functioning terminal to load Tinker Tom’s network scanner into.  Patriot had replied quickly, asking her to meet him in some closet between Bisocience and Advanced Systems.

But that would have to wait until she found Virgil’s serum.  For his sake, she hoped it would work.

She knew that Virgil was involved in studying the supermutant virus, but what she found in the FEV lab… it was monstrous.  She passed by tiny six-by-six cells that wouldn’t be adequate for humans, let alone mutants twice or three times their size.  It was worse when she got to the main lab.  Supermutant specimens floated, perfectly preserved, in observation tanks.  They were long dead, but it was clear that they had been subjected to countless experiments. 

The holotape she found of Virgil’s final observations before leaving the Institute only reinforced the horror.  His notes confirmed that the Institute hadn’t just been involved in experimentation on supermutants… they had been responsible for them.  Or at least, some of them.  Apparently, they took people to make more than just synths.  Virgil’s logs stated clearly that they had snatched people to purposefully expose them to the FEV virus, and then run tests on their mutation rates and cognitive function.

She was no fan of supermutants herself, but they were still living, thinking, feeling creatures.  That the Institute thought it was permissible to cage them in such a way and run the brutal tests that they did, in the search for a cure… it nearly made her sick.  And knowing that these scientists took healthy, normal humans and forced them to change into these monsters was positively surreal, like she was witnessing something out of a horror movie rather than real life.  The fact that her own son had likely approved such studies, she couldn’t bear thinking about.

She reentered the main courtyard of the Institute with a new strength to her resolve to bring them down.  Once she made certain that no one had picked up on Tom’s hack of their network, she was off to meet Patriot, and discuss what was to be done about the remaining synths. 

* * *

**(Cara)**

Meanwhile, back above ground, Cara had found that the best way to keep both herself and Hancock out of trouble was to keep busy.  She’d woken up to find him in the bottom of the Old State House, inside the (mostly unused) jail cell.  That in and of itself wouldn’t have worried her so much… but she was a little troubled by the fact that he was as high as a kite and viciously interrogating an old floor lamp about its plans for Rose.

Once she had talked him down and convinced him that the lamp was just a lamp (and that Ichabod had not suddenly developed the ability to scale walls and breathe fire), she decided that a project would do them both some good.  Daisy had mentioned how Rose had helped clear out the Boston Library for her a while back, so Cara decided to start there.  The library was likely still abandoned, with who knows how many intact books waiting to be rescued… and since there was the possibility that he might be able to kill something, she was able to get Hancock on board.  However reluctantly.

“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” he asked, as they crossed the threshold of the main lobby.

“Because I may be in the aftermath of a nuclear apocalypse, but I _refuse_ to continue living in a land of uncouth heathens,” Cara replied.  “And if we want to avoid making the same mistakes my generation made, then clinging to what’s left of our history is the only way we’ll make that happen.”

Hancock gazed disinterestedly at their surroundings while she searched, and grimaced a little as Ichabod eagerly raided a rotting supermutant corpse for any vestiges of edible flesh.  Evidently, deathclaws had stomachs made of fucking lead.

“Ain’t much to know about our history,” he said.  “People in power got too much power, fought over it, and then blew everyone else up in the process.  Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

Cara gave a growl that made even Dogmeat’s ears prick up.  “ _That_ attitude is precisely why recovering that knowledge is important.  And as someone who literally adopted the name of one of the most influential men in our nation’s history, I’d think you’d have a little more respect for those who have gone before us.”

There were still traces of the insane battle Rose had waged against supermutants… a hell of a favor _that_ had been.  Cara looked around at the bullet-scarred walls and at the blood smears on the floors with an expression of mingled distaste and sadness.  The Boston Library had been one of her favorite places before the war; she’d spent many hours curled up in its secluded nooks or devouring classic literature at one of the many reading desks.  Seeing it in its current state, with so many books destroyed or missing, was like attending the funeral of an old friend.

“These violent delights have violent ends… and in their triumph die, like fire and powder,” she murmured.

“What was that?” Hancock asked, glancing back at her as he checked the various doorways for any new squatters.

Cara waved her hand dismissively, seeming to come back to herself.  “It’s a quote from an old play… ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ by William Shakespeare.  Probably the most famous love story ever written.”

“Huh.  Must be pretty good then.”

Cara shrugged.  “I was never a fan.  Two teenagers instantly fall in love at a party, and end up committing suicide because of a poorly communicated plan to escape their overbearing families and elope?  Yawn.  His other romances were so much more entertaining... and generally had much happier endings.”

She continued to ramble on about the Bard, consciously making the effort to distract him.  He was sober for the moment, apart from a couple of Mentats to keep his perception sharp and the cigarettes he’d been inhaling more than actual air.  She wanted to keep him that way, at least for as long as possible.

They hadn’t really talked much about their experience in the Memory Den, aside from his confirmation that he could hear her narration.  She wasn’t sure if she could get the nerve to ever bring it up.  Sharing the memories hadn’t been as hard as she’d anticipated; it had actually felt sort of rewarding, if a little sneaky, to give him a chance to understand more about who Rose was.  But she’d gotten more than just a peek into his state of mind.

Hancock loved her sister fiercely.  That had been evident from the second she’d felt his mind join with hers.  But guilt had clouded the feeling of his affection more than once.  She couldn’t tell what it was related to, precisely, but she guessed that it had something to do with the scars that neither of them seemed to want to talk about.  There had also been a high level of anxiety that felt less like fear and more like a lack of self-worth when she’d shown him the memory of meeting newborn Shaun.

Even though it hadn’t been intentional, learning about these feelings felt like a trespass.  Hancock was open about a lot of stuff- sometimes a little _too_ open- but his darkest fears and insecurities were not on that particular list.  Cara worried that if she tried to bring them up, he’d get angry… push her away, feel betrayed or violated even.  Apart from Rose, he was the only real friend she had that didn’t run around on four legs.  She couldn’t exactly afford to lose that.

The thought brought an unexpected sadness that stilled her hands for a moment as she worked at prying open one of the old book-return machines.  Rose had said that sharp, homesick ache would fade over time.  Cara hoped she was right.

* * *

**(Hancock)**

Hancock shifted impatiently while he waited for Cara to finish her (unfortunately very thorough) search of the library.  Truthfully, he hadn’t been thrilled at the prospect of coming back to this little hellhole… the last time it had been literally swarming with supermutants.  It wasn’t exactly a place where one chose to spend an afternoon.

But despite his personal misgivings, he wasn’t about to let Cara wander off so close to the Boston Common on her own.  She had her sister’s stubbornness, but it was clear that skill in combat wasn’t a family trait.  At least keeping an eye on her would help keep his mind off of… other things.

Cara cried out behind him, and Hancock whirled around with his finger on the trigger of his double-barrel.  He’d expected to see ferals jumping on her- he would’ve heard supermutants thumping around a mile off- but instead Cara was kneeling on the ground, with her arms wrapped tightly around a book.

“ _Christ_ , kid.  You mind not doin’ that again?”

Oblivious to his irritation, Cara gave a happy, almost childlike squeal.  “I can’t believe I found one!”

His breath came out in a gruff, irritated grunt.  “Found one what?”

She held out the book to him proudly.  It was a worn hardcover, the front devoid of any title or image to help identify it.  He glanced at the book, and then looked back at her with a blank expression.

“It’s _Jane Eyre_!” she said impatiently, like this was something he ought to have known.  She carefully- lovingly even- opened the book to a random passage; her eyes devoured the page in the same way a starving person stares at a feast.  Her enthusiasm was enough to pique Hancock’s curiosity.

“What’s so great about it?” he asked, taking a knee beside her and peering at the worn pages between her fingers.

Cara smiled, but didn’t lift her eyes from the book.  “Charlotte Bronte was one of the greatest writers of the 19th century.  That would be, what, about five hundred years ago now?  Or a little less, I guess.  This book is- was- considered a classic, and is one of my favorites.  Everyone always goes on and on about Jane Austen’s novels, but the Bronte sisters could out-write her any day of the week.”

His eyes skimmed the page she was on, and he stood back up with an unimpressed shrug.  “Whatever floats your boat, kid.”

She closed the book and carefully eased it into her pack, like she was afraid it would break. 

“Books were my world before I was… here,” she said.  “Rose studied law in college; I studied words.  It probably sounds stupid, but some of my closest friends were the characters in the books I read.”

Hancock shook his head.  “Nah, I get it.  Daisy talks like that sometimes, too.  She always says that books are a ghoul’s best friend, cuz not a lotta other people’ll talk to us.”

Cara made a face.  “That’s fucked up.  And totally asinine.  Getting hung up on how somehow looks when there’s literally an entire world out there waiting to eviscerate us is the definition of idiocy.”

“I didn’t understand about half of what you just said, but I agree… I think.”

Cara shook her head and carefully tucked the book into her pack.  “You are much smarter than you make yourself out to be, Hancock.  You can pretend to be whoever you want with the rest of the world, but you don’t have to play dumb around me.”  She winked.  “Don’t worry; I promise I won’t tell.” 

* * *

**(Rose)**

Like everything else about the Institute, Patriot was a surprise.  Rose had expected maybe a rogue synth, or an older, disillusioned scientist with security clearance.  Instead, what she got was… a boy.  And a frankly naïve one at that.

Patriot- whose actual name was Liam Binet- almost seemed to be rescuing synths more as a hobby, than out of any actual passion for their freedom.  It came across to her as a typical teenage rebellion.  With no real access to cigarettes, alcohol, or edgy music to drive his parents insane, Liam had turned to the next best thing.  She doubted he even truly realized the gravity of his actions; no doubt he thought he’d get a slap on the wrist if he were caught. 

When he suggested that they free all the synths at once, Rose didn’t argue, but she made an internal note when he was clear about not wanting to risk violence.  He wasn’t as dedicated to the cause as the Railroad had hoped, and she could see it causing problems down the road.  She’d let Deacon and Desdemona decide what to do with that, though.  For now, she had the information she needed to continue with that mission… login credentials belonging to a scientist from another time.  She figured P.A.M. would be able to bring up a good target for that.

Shaun had been difficult to pin down during her time there.  He was evidently extremely busy; she lost track of the number of times a synth or fellow scientist had told her that he “could not be disturbed.”  Part of her was offended that her own son couldn’t make more time for his long-lost mother… though if he’d been attached to her hip the whole time, it would’ve made the whole double-agent thing a hell of a lot harder.

If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t actually certain how much more she wanted to know about her son.  She had internalized her dismay – no, it had been more than that, it had been grief, shock, heartbreak – when she discovered that her baby had lived his entire life without her.  It was too dangerous to fall to pieces when she was in the middle of what she still considered enemy territory.

By all appearances, Shaun had grown up into the worst kind of scientist.  Not the mad, creating-monsters-in-the-basement kind, but the kind that allowed atrocities to happen because it was all in the name of a “greater good.”  He moralized kidnappings, inhuman experiments, even murder, because for him it meant recreating the surface world into some pre-war ideal.  And he did it all with such cool calmness, that she wondered if she hadn’t birthed a sociopath.  His less-than-moving reception of her certainly seemed to support that.

Between exploring the facilities, finding the FEV cure, and meeting up with Liam, she’d been at the Institute for nearly a week.  It was time to go home.  She knew Hancock and Cara would probably out of their minds with worry, and their absence pricked at her like an itch she couldn’t reach.  She wanted to go back, to have Cara reassure her that she couldn’t be responsible for the man her son had become, and to rest in Hancock’s arms and let him love her until this was all a distant bad dream.

With those thoughts in her head, she typed a quick goodbye in the terminal that was set up in the room Shaun had given her.  He had set it up with their own personal email system… a sort of weak gesture at getting to know one another.

 _Have to head back to the surface.  Duty calls._ He knew about her affiliation with the Minutemen, and would easily assume that’s what she was going back to take care of.  _Will come back again before long.  Love, Mom._

She almost didn’t include that last part.


	15. Chapter 15

**(Rose)**

Rose reappeared in the Commonwealth like a lightning strike, landing in the alley just outside of Goodneighbor.  Teleporting definitely didn’t get any easier the second time around; it still made her want to vomit.

She raised her shotgun straightaway, ready to take out anything that had been drawn by the light and noise.  Luckily, the alleyway was empty.  She uttered a silent prayer of thanks; the last thing she needed was for people to see her popping out of the sky.  She was going to have a hard enough time convincing those that knew where she had been that she could still be trusted, without adding mass hysteria into the mix.

She hesitated outside the door to Goodneighbor.  It had been nearly a week since she had left Hancock and the others back in Jamaica Plain.  All she could think about during the last few hours was how much she wanted to see him, and tell him about everything that she had learned.  But now that she was back, at least temporarily safe from the ever-watchful presence of her son and his scientists, the weight of that knowledge hit her.  Panic gripped her chest with fierce claws.  She pressed her back against the walls of the city as sobs tried to choke her, her hand clenched around her mouth to muffle the pathetic noises that were crawling out of her throat. 

The truth of Shaun’s existence hurt so _badly_.  It might have hurt less if someone had ripped the lungs from her chest.  She had spent all this time thinking she would find an innocent little boy, not a man old enough to be her father.  And certainly not a man who was the head of the organization that terrorized the Commonwealth, who justified slavery, murder, and countless other crimes in the name of preserving humanity.  Her son had grown up entirely without her, and he had grown up to become an unfeeling _monster_.

So many months spent… so many lives taken, wounds suffered, so much heartbreak and terror endured to rescue Shaun, only to discover that he had never needed rescuing.

She cried herself out as quietly as she could for several minutes.  But it wasn’t safe to linger out in the open; before long she pulled herself together, and forced the shame and despair aside to be dealt with later.  She could fall to pieces once she was safe, with Hancock there to keep his arms around her and anchor her to something real.

She had barely set foot inside the city when a high-pitched, whiny yelp made her screw up her eyes in pain.  A second later she fell back against the makeshift gates as eighty pounds of black and tan fur launched itself on top of her.  Dogmeat literally crawled all over her, winding himself around and around her body as he whined and yipped uncontrollably.

“I… blegh… I missed you too, boy,” Rose said, her voice muffled as she fought off his insistent and frantic doggie kisses.  “Seriously, Dogmeat, lay off!  Your breath stinks!”

“You’re back!” 

Rose managed to catch a glimpse of her sister’s blonde hair as she wrestled to get Dogmeat to settle down.  She finally managed to pin the German Shepherd down, almost laying on top of him to get him to be still… though he was still doing his best to lick every inch of her face he could reach.  Cara’s laugh brought her eyes back up.

“I have never seen an animal miss a human more than that mutt missed you,” Cara said.  A bright smile lit her face that was hard not to reciprocate. 

“Lucky me,” Rose said wryly, but she couldn’t keep the happiness off of her own expression.  She’d missed Dogmeat too, and it was hard not to melt with a reception like that.  “Oh my god, is that Ichabod?  Did you give him steroids or something while I was gone?  It’s only been a week!”

The juvenile deathclaw was glued to Cara’s side, as always.  He made a noise that could only be described as a friendly growl, and nuzzled Cara’s palm.  She passed him some sort of treat (probably meat) and he gobbled it down eagerly.

“I think he’s almost big enough to start standing on two feet,” Cara observed, with a tone like that of a proud parent.  “He’s such a good boy, aren’t you, Ichabod?  He helped Daisy scare off some punk who was trying to rip her off the other day.  I think the poor guy wet his pants.”

Ichabod rumbled like he was agreeing with her, and nosed her hands for more treats.  When they came up empty he heaved a huge sigh and ducked his head like a sulky teenager.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see that you’re all okay,” Rose said.  She got up off when the ground when she was convinced that Dogmeat had worn himself out and wouldn’t try to tackle her again.  “I was worried sick the entire time I was away.”

Cara scoffed.  “ _Puh-lease._   Everyone around here is either a friend of yours, or is too terrified of you, Ichabod, or Hancock to try anything.  I don’t think we could’ve been safer if we tried.”

“Speaking of John… where is he?”

At that, Cara’s smile slipped.  She glanced down and away, and Rose felt a weight growing in her chest.

“Cara?  What’s wrong?  Did something happen to-”

“He’s fine,” Cara said, waving her hands.  “Well, I mean, he’s intact.  He’s not injured or anything.  But, uh, he hasn’t been handling this whole thing very well.”

Rose closed her eyes.  “I had been afraid of that.”

Cara’s voice grew gentle.  “Last I saw, he was in the Third Rail.  He’s probably still there.  Come on.”

Rose let her sister lead her by the hand.  Ichabod followed closely on Cara’s side, and Dogmeat flanked Rose on the other; he was pressed so tightly against her leg that Rose nearly tripped a couple of times.

Rose was almost afraid to ask, but the words came out anyway.  “He hasn’t… you know, hurt himself or anything, has he?”

Cara shook her head.  “No, nothing like that.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thank God.”

“He’s just… I don’t think he knows how to handle this sort of stuff very well.  I kind of got more of an insight into the way his mind works than I ever wanted to…”

“Sorry about that,” Rose apologized.  “You never checked to see if I’m a synth, by the way.”

“Don’t need to,” Cara said confidently.  “Though I can quiz you later if it’ll make you feel better.  Anyway, with Hancock… When we were synched up or whatever you want to call it, I got bits and pieces of what was going through his head.  I know that he sort of looks at me like the irritating little sister he never had, which is cute.”  She sniggered to herself, and even Rose had to suppress a chuckle.  “But the way he feels about you is intense.  Like, way more than what I’ve ever felt for any of the partners I’ve had over the years.  His emotions came across really clear anytime you were in the picture.”

“I already know he loves me,” Rose said pointedly, and Cara shrugged.

“Yeah, but it never hurts to hear it again, right?”  She grinned, but quickly grew somber again.  “He hasn’t been admitting it- not like he needs to- but he’s been carrying a lot of fear since you left.  He’s been terrified that the Institute would hurt you, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.  Not fear in general, I don’t think, but the fear of losing you.  He’s got a lot of unresolved guilt, too, but I tried not to look too closely into that.”

They had reached the entrance to the Third Rail.  Rose paused with her hand on the door as her own guilt dug deep claws into her heart.

She couldn’t immediately speak, so Cara kept going.  “I’ve been helping as best I can, but he’s basically been on a bender since you left.  He’s been high or drunk or both almost this whole time.  I’ve managed to keep him from doing anything stupid.”  She saw the look on her sister’s face, and gently put her hand on her back.  “Hey, if it makes you feel better, I think he’ll bounce right back the instant he sees that you were right and you’re okay.”

Rose sighed heavily.  “I hope so.  Right now, it doesn’t feel worth it.”

Cara’s eyes widened, and then her brow pinched with concern.  “What are you saying?  Rose, is Shaun-?”

“Let me talk to you about it later, sis,” Rose said, as she pushed her way inside the old subway station.  “Right now I just wanna make sure John is okay.”

* * *

**(Hancock)**

Hancock hadn’t been crossfaded for this long in months… hell, probably in a few years.  Time had blurred together, hours and minutes spilling into each other until they didn’t make sense anymore.  He wasn’t certain if he’d been wasted for a few days or weeks.  Some small part of him nagged at his conscience; Rose had never taken issue with his drug use, but she probably wouldn’t like to see him this way. 

So he took another hit of Jet, and silenced the voice.  He couldn’t think about her right now.  Thinking about Rose made him so anxious it felt like his chest would explode.  He knew if he dwelled on it for too long he’d start ripping the whole goddamn Commonwealth apart until he found her.  She’d asked him to trust her and be patient, but he could only take so much.

“Hey there, Hancock.” 

He started.  “Rose?” 

For a brief moment he wondered if he’d been able to summon her through sheer want alone.  But the woman who sat next to him was dark-haired, and the voice that wove past his inebriated fog was smokier than Rose’s wry tones.

If the woman was upset with his mistake, she didn’t show it.  She gave a low, throaty laugh, and tapped her fingers against the tabletop so her nails clicked.

“Not quite… but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 “Not really lookin’ for company tonight,” he said, as neutrally as he could manage.  He could hear the way his words slurred but couldn’t bring himself to care enough to do anything about it.

“The Hancock I know doesn’t usually party by himself,” the woman replied, undeterred.  “Anything I can do to help?”

She had wormed her way up next to him.  Her features were hard to make out, between his high and the dim lighting of the bar, but he thought she looked sort of familiar.  Denise?  Danica?  Danielle?  Something with a D.  If his memory served (and at the moment, there was a very slim chance of that happening), they’d slept together a few times, just after he’d become mayor.  She’d hadn’t been big into ghouls, exactly, but she was into power, and he hadn’t been a ghoul long enough at that time for that to bother him… much.  He’d cut things off when she had started expecting favors.  He hadn’t seen much of her since then.

Right now, she had a hand resting on his thigh.  Her other hand was playing with the detailing on the collar of his coat.  She was thinner than Rose too… skinny, where Rose was muscled from long hours of carrying too much junk and fighting off baddies way bigger than she was.  Not that long ago, that wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest... he’d always been an equal-opportunity ghoul.  Or man.  Whatever.

But now all he wanted was one person, and that person wasn’t here.  He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her, but that was hard when every touch and every line of this other woman’s body brought up Rose’s features in his mind.

She was close enough that he could see her eyes clearly, even though the rest of her face was still a little fuzzy.  The glow of the neon lights behind them gave a dark red sheen to her dusky hair... and for the briefest moment, it was Rose smiling at him.  Then he shook his head and blinked hard, and the illusion disappeared.  The Jet had to be pretty far ahead of him if he was hallucinating like that.

“Listen, D… err, doll,” he said, shifting back.  “Appreciate the offer and all, but I’ll have to pass.”

He stood up to create some space, but she followed like she was tethered to him.  She backed him up into the wall and wrapped her arms around his neck.  His thoughts flashed back to when Rose had last held him like that- with her firm legs wrapped around his waist, screaming his name for all of Goodneighbor to hear as he claimed her on that balcony.  He smirked a little as he relieved that moment in his mind, and remembered her promise to get him back.  The Institute wasn’t going to be able to hold her with a promise like that to keep.

Dany or Diane or _whothefuckcares_ arched her body against his.  She’d clearly felt his reaction, but misread the cause completely.  Still, the sensation of her chest pressing against his brought him back to the present; he needed to remove one of them from this equation before there was trouble.

“I’ve heard all sorts of stories about you lately, Hancock,” the woman- was her name Deirdre?  Or maybe Desiree?- purred.  “Your legend just keeps growing and growing.  You sure you aren’t up for one last ‘tour of the town’?  For old time’s sake?”  She rotated her hips against his, just the barest suggestion of touch, and smiled.  “Sorta seems to me that you are.”

One of her hands was tracing a line down his shoulder, and the other one was teasing the opening of his shirt.  She was pressed against him just enough for him to feel the curves of her hips and chest, and it was making it even harder to think.  The drugs that were lighting up his nerve endings made each caress feel extra good… his body was definitely on board, even if his mind was ringing warning bells like a damn siren. 

The Old Hancock would’ve taken her up on her offer in a heartbeat.  _Had_ done so, on more than one occasion.  But now…

“Ain’t a tourin’ ghoul anymore,” he managed.  He put his hands on her shoulders, but only to try and shift her out of the way.  He needed to get outside and get some fresh air.  Maybe he’d go find Cara and let her talk about books or something until he came down from this high.  The last time he’d asked her about that guy Shakespeare she hadn’t shut up for three hours.

The woman’s eyes flickered over his shoulder for just the barest instant.  Her lips parted in a catlike grin.  Then she clenched her hands around the lapels of his coat, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

He returned the kiss for about half a second before his brain reminded him that no, this was wrong, this wasn’t Rose, and he didn’t want to be doing this.  He pushed her back with an unhappy growl.  He started to tell her to take a hike… and then the unmistakable sound of a shotgun chambering a round echoed through the room.

The bar went silent.  His would-be seducer backed off immediately; her face had turned the same color as bad Brahmin milk.  Her eyes were wide and fixed on someone standing at his back.

He turned around to see what had spooked her so suddenly, and froze.  Just a few yards away stood Rose, looking like a fucking apparition with her combat shotgun aimed firmly in their direction.  Though he’d had trouble seeing two feet in front of what used to be his nose moments before, he could see _her_ clearly. 

Rose all but glowed, illuminated by the neon lights around the staircase.  She was totally pristine:  there wasn’t a single smudge of dirt or blood that marred her skin, which looked like porcelain to his eyes, and her auburn hair flowed loosely around her head like a soft halo.  She must’ve looked like this when she’d first exited the vault… sans the gun and the murderous look in her eyes, probably.  She looked damn near angelic… well, like an angel of death maybe, with her finger on that trigger, but an angel nevertheless.

“Rose, don’t do it.”  Cara was there, and so were the animals that followed her around like devoted children.  She stepped in front of the shotgun barrel- stupidly, he thought- and pushed it down towards the ground.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret,” she said evenly to her sister, who had not taken her eyes off of the woman still cowering somewhere behind him.  “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

He knew he should say something, anything, but he was still having trouble deciding if this was real.  He’d hallucinated her coming back a couple of times since they’d gotten back to Goodneighbor.  Though admittedly, the hallucinations had usually gone a lot better than this.

Rose’s eyes flickered to his.  She held his gaze for he wasn’t sure how long.  Not a muscle in her face moved, but he could name each emotion that passed over it just the same.  Disbelief, pain, anger, and… weariness?  In that order.  She dropped the shotgun like it burned her, and disappeared back up the stairs before he was really certain she had moved.  Dogmeat whined softly and took off after her… the mutt had the loyalty of a saint.

Hancock stared up after her, trying to will his way into sobriety so he could process what in the hell had just happened.  There was a _crack_ loud enough to be a gun going off and his head slammed into the wall.  Another second passed and the entire side of his face was on fire.

“Are you a _complete_ idiot?!” Cara demanded, in as close to a snarl as he’d ever heard her get.  She’d slapped him… hard, too.  But that was okay because the pain cleared his head just a little bit.

“That… was that really Rose?  She’s back?”

“Of course she is, you jackass,” Cara replied acidly.  “Her first thought was to come make sure that _you_ were alright, and you’re down here making out with Whore-of-the-Week.”

“Hey!” what’s-her-name protested.  She had gotten a little of her boldness back now that there wasn’t a gun pointed at her head, but she piped right back down at the look Cara gave her.

“I just stopped my sister from permanently rearranging your face,” she growled.  “And if you don’t get your floozy ass out of here in the next two seconds, I am going to _feed you to my deathclaw_.”

Ichabod gave an impressively throaty growl for being only half-grown.  The woman squeaked and literally ran out of the building, tripping over a few chairs and tables as she went.  It would’ve been funny if she’d hadn’t just fucked everything up so badly.  If _he_ hadn’t fucked everything up.

Cara watched her leave through tight eyes.  “Hopefully she doesn’t run into Rose out there, or she may just kill her.”  Then she turned back to Hancock.  She opened her mouth to yell at him some more, but she must’ve seen something in his face because all of her breath whooshed out of her in a sigh.  “Well, shit.”

* * *

**(Rose)**

Rose wasn’t sure exactly where her feet where taking her until she stood under the cheesy, glowing pink heart.  It was late by now, so late that the market had been empty except for the few city guards on patrol and that one Mr. Handy that ran Mirna’s shop at night.  She knew Nick would be up; he was a synth, he didn’t need to sleep.  Even so, she banged on the door loudly and relentlessly, as though pounding on the wood would somehow make her feel better.

“Alright, knock it off already!” came Nick’s muffled voice past the door.  He pulled it open with a huff of irritation.  “You trying to wake the whole neigh- oh.”  He blinked, his entire demeanor softening as his artificial yellow eyes ran over her.  “Oh, no.  Rose, what happened to you?”

Rose tried to answer… she really did.  But her heart was so raw from seeing Shaun, and then that woman wrapped around Hancock had made it so much worse… she was so, so tired and so sick of hurting, and now Nick was looking at her with such incredible kindness and concern…

So she opened her mouth to try and answer… and burst into tears instead.

Nick, God bless his mechanical soul, didn’t so much as bat an eye.  He let her bury herself against his worn-out overcoat, tactfully closing the door behind her so that she could have at least a little privacy.  Dogmeat slunk in behind her, tangling up her feet with his need to be close.  Nick wrapped his arms around her shoulders- gently, because metal arms weren’t exactly made for hugging- and stayed solid and still while she let go of everything she’d been holding back.

 “It’s okay, Rose.  You’re safe,” he murmured, over and over.  His gentleness made her cry even harder, but that didn’t seem to bother him.  “You just go ahead and get it all out, and then you can tell me who hurt you… and what we need to do to them.”


	16. Chapter 16

**(Hancock)**

“You are the King of Idiots.  You do know that, don’t you?”

“Will you just beat it already?”

In response, Cara settled herself more firmly onto the couch, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.  Her pet deathclaw was stretched out on the floor next to her feet.  He was pretending to be asleep, but he’d cracked open an eye at the hostility in Hancock’s voice.

“Yeah, not a chance, H.  You lost your no-babysitter privileges.”

Hancock rubbed a hand over his face.  “Cara, if you don’t get out of here I’ll-”

“Not do a damn thing about it.”  Her expression was both infuriatingly smug and disapproving.  “You may be able to scare most of the people in this city, Mr.  Big Bad Gangster, but you and I both know that you wouldn’t lay a hand on me.  And even if you did, Ichabod would eat it.”

His sigh was more of a growl. His head was splitting like a Brahmin had kicked it, and the room wobbled unpleasantly if he took more than a couple of steps at a time.  If the hangover weren’t bad enough, Cara’s stubborn presence was a (very loud) reminder of what had happened the night before.

He’d fucked up.  He’d fucked up _so_ badly.  He couldn’t even remember details from most of the night… he didn’t recall how he’d actually gotten to the Rail, or how long he’d been there, or who the hell he’d been talking to.  All he did remember was that woman pressing her lips against his, just as Rose reappeared from what he’d come to consider the depths of Hell.  And her _face_.  That was the clearest part of all.  He may have been higher than a motherfucking kite, but he saw the way she’d looked at him.

He’d rather have been dead in the gutter.

He sank onto the couch opposite of Cara, hand still over his eyes.  In the past, he’d played off multiple partners against each other without feeling the slightest hint of guilt.  Now one kiss- a kiss he didn’t even initiate- made him want to crawl under a rock.  It wasn’t even the fact that it had happened that bothered him, really.  It was that she had looked so _betrayed_.  Rose had trusted him to hold together, and instead he’d let himself fall to pieces when she was counting on him to be strong.  He’d let himself be so swallowed up by his own fear and worry and self-pity that he’d ended up hurting her, _again_.

That, more than anything else, was what made him feel like less than nothing.

And as for Cara, he couldn’t understand why she was antagonizing him rather than out looking for her sister.  The girl hadn’t left him alone for a second since last night.  At one point she had said that she wouldn’t know where to look for Rose, especially in the middle of the night, and he supposed that was true enough.  It still didn’t explain why she felt it necessary to waste time hanging around him, though.  Maybe she just wanted to drive him insane.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Cara reiterated to him; her voice had softened to something that didn’t stab painfully into his migraine.  “If I didn’t know firsthand how much you care about Rose, I’d probably have run off to find her and let you rot in your misery.”  He gave her a narrowed-eyed look, and she shrugged.  “I’ve done worse to guys who have hurt her before.  I once pretended to be into a guy who was cheating on her so that I could get into his house, and then I coated his toilet seat in super glue.  He ended up in the hospital for a week and couldn’t walk right for at least a month.”

Hancock frowned.  “That don’t exactly make me trust in havin’ you around.”

Cara gave him a small grin.  “Don’t worry.  I’m not planning anything quite that nefarious for you… not yet, anyway.  And I can’t exactly set up a painful trap when I’m sitting three feet away from you.”  Ichabod rested his scaly head on her knee, and she stroked his horns thoughtfully.  “But you need to get your shit together and go after Rose.”

His jaw clenched.  “She ain’t gonna wanna see me, kid.”

“Bullshit.”  Cara’s face hardened in mulish lines.  “Look, there’s no denying you were the world’s biggest dumbass-”

“So you’ve told me about a dozen times.”

“- but Rose _will_ forgive you, if you go find her.  You know her; she doesn’t hold grudges very well.”  Cara paused.  “Well, she doesn’t so long as you don’t steal her kid and kill her husband.  Kissing another woman is up there, but it’s still not quite that bad.”

Hancock pushed himself to his feet and angrily kicked the coffee table between them.  Cara flinched but didn’t move from her spot.  Ichabod hissed, and her hand tightened subtly around one of his horns.

“You’re stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong, kid,” he growled. 

Cara watched him coolly.  “I beg to differ.  As Rose’s sister and only living relative who is not her son, I am uniquely qualified to meddle in her business.  And _you_ , Hancock, are definitely her business.”

He could hear his teeth grinding in his skull.  “Look, I don’t know how much she’s told you, but I-”

“I won’t last long trying to track her down,” she interrupted quickly.  “You know better than I would where she’d go to ground.  I’ve barely gotten the layout of Goodneighbor memorized.  I’d walk myself in circles out there.”  Her eyes grew soft with something very close to pity and he had to turn away, because he could not fucking deal with that right now.  “Look, she’s hurting from something that does not involve you and jumped to conclusions.  That’s all.”

At that moment the doors opened, and Nick Valentine strode purposefully into the room.  Hancock glanced at the synth and bit back a groan.

“Hey, Nicky.  Look, now ain’t exactly the best time for a-”

Nick wordlessly walked up to him, and punched him right in the jaw.

That took Hancock completely by surprise.  He went down like a stack of cards, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the corner of the table.  Stars flashed in front of his eyes.  Nick had never hit him before… and damn, those metal hands of his _hurt_.

“What the fuck, Valentine?” he demanded, once he recovered enough to talk.  He tasted copper and spat blood onto the ground.  “You blow a circuit or something?”

For a robotic man, Nick could sure channel a lot of anger into his expression when he wanted to.  “I had hoped I could expect better of you, John.  Did going ghoul burn away your conscience along with your flesh?”

It wasn’t hard to guess what he was talking about.  Hancock slumped against the foot of the couch.  He didn’t exactly have a good defense.

“You must be Nick?” Cara asked, a little shakily.  She’d jumped to her feet when Nick had swung at Hancock, and now was crouching with her arms around Ichabod’s neck to keep the deathclaw from lunging at the synth detective.

Nick looked over at her and relaxed his posture a little.  “You must be Cara.  Sorry about that… not exactly the way I’d envisioned us being introduced.”

Cara lifted her shoulders, though she still looked a little shaken.  “No worries.  He needed it.”  She straightened and reached out to shake Nick’s hand.  “I take it Rose is with you?  Or at your place, rather.”

Nick nodded.  “She showed up on my doorstep last night with Dogmeat… no gun, no armor.  She’s lucky she made it to Diamond City unscathed at that time of night.”  There was an accusatory tone in his voice that was hard to miss.

Cara hugged herself and took a deep breath.  “Oh, thank God.”

Nick’s eyes shifted to Hancock in a disdainful glance.  “I spent most of the night talking her down.  Rose is a tough girl… I’ve never seen her that upset.  Not even after she lived through Kellogg’s memories.”

“What do you want me to say?” Hancock snapped, throwing up a hand.  “I know I’m a fucking scumbag, alright?  You should’ve let Rose just put a bullet in me, Cara.  Be easier that way.”

“And _that_ attitude is why you get me as a babysitter,” Cara replied pointedly.  To Nick, she said, “Look, I don’t normally defend the people who hurt my sister, but Hancock wasn’t intentionally being a terrible person last night… just a stupid one.  I saw a decent amount of what actually happened.  He was wasted off his ass and that streetwalking whore wasn’t taking no for an answer.”  Cara ran a hand through her hair.  “I guess I could’ve been better about keeping an eye on him like I’d promised… but I figured if he was high, then at least he wasn’t out there trying to take out the Railroad for sending Rose away, or getting himself killed trying to find his own way into the Institute to get her.”

“It’s not your fucking job to look after me,” Hancock growled acerbically.  Her altruistic attitude towards him was misguided and falsely optimistic, and it irritated the hell out of him.  She had no business defending him when every choice he made just put Rose through more pain.

Cara tried to respond, but Nick held up his hand.  “No, he’s right, Cara.  John is a grown man; let him be responsible for his own mistakes.”  His shoulders came down a little.  “That’s a slightly different story than the one I got from Rose last night, though.  If what you say is true, Cara, then maybe I haven’t misjudged John as badly as I’d thought.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they all searched for something to say.  At length, Hancock asked quietly, “So how’s she doin’?”

Nick folded his arms.  “She’s holding together for the time being.  I finally convinced her to get some sleep… left under the watchful eye of Dogmeat, Ellie, and Piper.”

Hancock groaned.  “Christ.  Piper, really?  Now I’ll never hear this end of this as long as I live.  And ghouls live a long fucking time, Nick.”

“And that’s the least you’d deserve,” Nick said unforgivingly.  “Maybe this’ll finally get you to sober up.”  Then he shook his head.  “It might not have been so bad, but you’ve got a talent for horrible timing, John.  It seems that things… didn’t go exactly as planned, with the Institute.”

At that, both Cara’s and Hancock’s heads jerked up.

“What do you mean?” Hancock demanded, suddenly intent.  “What happened at the Institute?”

“Did something happen to Shaun?” Cara asked.

“Not exactly.  It’s…” Nick rubbed the back of his neck in a very human gesture.  “It’s complicated.  And it’s not really my story to tell.”  Nick held Hancock’s gaze, and for the moment his anger was replaced by a heavy grimness.  “I can tell you that she’s not doing that hot.  Even if she hadn’t walked in on you lip-locked with another woman,” Hancock winced like Nick had swung at him again, “she’d be in bad shape.  I think she’s grasping at straws.”

Hancock swore under his breath.  “I knew lettin’ her go was a mistake.”

“Even if I agreed with you, there’s no changing it now,” Nick said.  “I did my best, but I’m not the one she’s used to leaning on.”  He crouched down next to Hancock.  “Tell me straight, John… do you love Rose?”

Hancock looked up at him, startled.  “Of course I do, Nick.  What kinda question is that?”

“A serious one.  The kind of trauma Rose has been through would’ve broken a lesser person a long, long time ago.  I think she’s hanging on by the tips of her fingers, and if you can’t handle that, then you need to walk away before you do any more damage.”  His expression had become unreadable.  “She needs you- needs all of us- if she’s going to find a way to move past this, but what she doesn’t need is someone compounding the injury.  Understand?”

Hancock considered his words gravely for a moment, and then nodded, his onyx eyes lit up with a new determination.

“I can handle it, Nick.  I ain’t gonna let her face this alone.”

Nick inclined his head, satisfied.  “Good.”  He stood and beckoned to the two of them.  “Come on, then.  She’ll probably be waking up soon.”

He paused as they headed towards the staircase, and looked back to pierce through Hancock with his luminescent eyes. 

“Fair warning, John… you and I have been friends for a long time.  But if you hurt her again, I’m going to have to kill you.”

Hancock nodded grimly.  “If I hurt her again, I’ll let you.”


	17. Chapter 17

**(Hancock)**

It was midday by the time they arrived at the gates of Diamond City.  Ordinarily Hancock would’ve waited outside so that the guards didn’t waste their time trying to arrest him or throw him out, but he was having none of it today.

“Doesn’t your brother have the security ordered to like, arrest you on sight?” Cara asked a little nervously as the green metal gate rolled over their heads.  She’d already reflected on how lucky it was that they didn’t have security cameras; Nick’s voice had been the magic key that got them inside.

Hancock bared his teeth in a grimace.  “Not if they fuckin’ know what’s good for ‘em.  My brother hasn’t had the balls to try to fuck with me since he heard what I did to Vic and his boys.”

“Even so, it’s best if we stay out of the main market,” Nick said.  “If you scare anyone or cause a fight, security’ll be forced to intervene… and they’ve been trigger-happy lately.  Your brother wouldn’t mourn if they shot you and claimed it was an accident.”

They were halfway up the stairs to enter the main stadium when they found Piper running in the opposite direction.  She nearly flew headfirst into their party; Nick caught her before they all domino’d backwards.

“Nick!  There you are!” she said breathlessly.  She straightened herself out and tried to catch her breath.  “I was just running to find you.  Blue…”

She trailed off as her eyes locked onto Hancock.  Nick reacted just in time to grab her wrists and keep her from pummeling him.

“You!” Piper hissed, fighting to get free so she could hit him.  “You have _officially_ made it to the top of my list of least favorite mayors!  I could kill you for what you did to Blue!”

“Join the club,” Hancock replied bitterly.

“I just knew you were you a worthless, no-good, son of a-”

“You must be Piper,” Cara said brightly, effectively cutting off the brunette’s rant.  “As hilarious as it would be to watch you unleash your wrath upon Hancock, it’d probably do more harm than good seeing as this was _mostly_ a misunderstanding.  Also, I’m pretty certain he’s beating himself up more than you ever could.”

Piper stared at her with a faint crease between your brows.  “You’re Cara.”

Cara nodded.  “Yep.  And you were saying something about my sister…?”

“Oh!”  Piper shook her head and seemed to come back to herself.  “Nick, I don’t know what happened… one minute Blue’s saying something about going out to get some food for Dogmeat, and the next she’s just vanished!  I asked around if anyone had seen where she went…”

“And?” Hancock prompted impatiently. 

Piper made a face at him but answered anyway.  “Myrna didn’t have a clue, but she said that she’d picked up a bunch of Rad-x and Rad-Away from her.  Arturo said she used the last of the caps on her to buy a new shotgun and as much ammo as she could carry.  He said when he asked her where she was headed off to, she mentioned something about going to see Virgil.”

Hancock swore, and Nick ran a hand over his face.  Cara frowned, looking at the two men in confusion.

“Who the hell is Virgil, and why is that problem?”

“Virgil is a freakin’ supermutant scientist who just so happens to live in the Glowing Sea,” Hancock growled.  “Is she insane?  She’s just going to get herself killed heading out there on her own!”

“I hope that’s not the idea,” Nick said worriedly.  “Piper, about how long ago do you think she left?”

“Not more than an hour,” she replied anxiously.  “You guys might be able to catch up with her if you hurry, but you know Blue.  She can be hard to track down if she doesn’t want company.”

Nick nodded.  “Right.  John and I will go after her; God willing, we can find her before she gets herself into real trouble.  Cara, you stay here with Piper until we get back.”

Cara scoffed.  “Yeah right, like I could just sit on my rear while Rose is-”

“For once, don’t argue, kid,” Hancock snapped tersely.  “The Glowing Sea is a lot more dangerous than any place you’ve been so far, and it’s irradiated all to hell.  Nick and I don’t need to worry about that, but we’re going to need all the meds we can carry just to make sure Rose doesn’t turn herself into a fucking feral running around out there.”

Cara exhaled slowly.  “Fuck.  Fine, then.  You two go track down my sister.  But if any of you gets yourself killed…”

“Not gonna happen,” Nick reassured her kindly.  “We’ll be back before you know it.”  He turned his yellow eyes to Piper.  “Why don’t you see if you can use the radio in my office to contact Garvey and his minutemen at the Castle?  He could put the word out to watch for her; might slow her down long enough to let us catch up before she makes any more bad decisions.”

“Good idea.”  Piper took Cara’s shoulder, and then glared at Hancock.  “Try not to bring her back any more broken than she already is.”

* * *

**(Rose)**

_Wonder how long it’ll take them to get on my trail_ , Rose wondered to herself as she flitted in between decaying buildings.  She felt a little guilty at leaving the way she did, especially so soon after returning from the Institute.  But she needed time alone to think, and there was no way in hell she’d find that in Goodneighbor or Diamond City.  Or any of her settlements, for that matter.  At least this way, she’d have a bit of a lead on her friends before they tracked her down. 

The thoughts in her head were like scrap metal being fed down a garbage disposal.  All of it was loud and confusing.  She could barely fathom where to start.  And her heart felt like it had been tossed down the disposal, too.  After the initial shock, she didn’t really have the energy to be pissed at Hancock for what she’d walked in on… though she had every right to be.  It had mostly just compounded the heartache she was already suffering.

It wasn’t that she had been surprised to see him wasted.  Even though she had hoped for a different outcome, she knew him well enough to have expected that he’d turn to chems to try to mute his frustration or worry.  It made her feel guilty as sin, but what could she do?  There hadn’t been any other options.  If she hadn’t taken the chance with the relay, there was no guarantee that she would have ever found another way to infiltrate the Institute.  He knew she would have brought him with her if she could have… or she had thought as much, anyway.  Now she wasn’t so certain.

Maybe she had overreacted.  She had been ready to put a bullet in someone before Cara stopped her.  Regardless of how much it had hurt to see that woman latched onto Hancock like a fucking leech, Rose knew that shooting an unarmed person was just a _bit_ extreme.  And even though he was definitely at fault, it wasn’t like Hancock had even so much as looked at another woman since they’d gotten together.  She had just… snapped.

Her brooding was interrupted as her Pip-boy beeped.  It was a message from Virgil; she had sent him an email late last night telling him she’d gotten the serum.  It all had to be done cryptically, of course, since she had no idea if the courser chip Dr. Li installed would send information back to Shaun or not.

Luckily, Virgil was bright enough to understand her comments about “meeting near the Children’s playground for a drink.”  He agreed to meet her at the edge of the crater where the Children of Atom made their home, but wouldn’t go farther than that.  “Don’t want to run into my ex” was what he’d said.  That was fine; the crater wasn’t so far into the Sea that she was risking running into anything too big and nasty.  She’d be able to pop in and out in just a few hours.  The rads would suck, but her pack was stuffed with all of the anti-radiation medicine she could fit.  She still had the vault suit, too, and Cara’s… not that she was planning on swapping suits in the middle of the Sea, but it was good to have a backup just in case.

She glanced at the time on her Pip-boy.  If she didn’t stop to sleep, she could reach the edge of the Glowing Sea by early the next morning… so long as she didn’t get caught up with raiders or anything along the way. 

* * *

**(Hancock)**

“So since it looks like we’ve got quite the trek ahead of us, why don’t you fill me in on what exactly was going through your head last night.”

They were taking the most direct route to the Glowing Sea… straight through the south of old Boston and Cambridge, and across the river from there.  It would’ve been easier to have Dogmeat help with the tracking, but there was no way the German Shepherd would survive the rads in the Glowing Sea.

“Do we really gotta talk about this now, Nicky?” Hancock asked bitterly.  “Why don’t you just slug me in the face again and call it a day?”

“It’s a long walk to the Glowing Sea, John, and us synths can be pretty patient when we want to be.”

Hancock growled under his breath and rolled his eyes.  “I was fuckin’ wasted, alright?  That what you wanted to hear?”

Nick shrugged and stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.  When it became apparent the old synth wasn’t going to let it go, Hancock sighed.

“Most of the night’s a blur,” he said, avoiding Nick’s gaze as he talked.  “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about all the ways the Institute could be hurting Rose… and how I was stuck out here with my thumb up my ass, not able to do jack shit about it.  It was enough to make me wanna do some real dangerous or real stupid shit, so I went down into the Rail to try and distract myself.”

“And that distraction involved other women?” Nick asked disapprovingly.

“Fuck no, Nick!  Christ!” Hancock exclaimed defensively.  Then he thought about it and caught himself.  “Okay, I know it ain’t like I’ve been the role model for monogamy in the past.  But there ain’t no one else like Rose in the whole goddamned Commonwealth.  Hell, the whole fucking world, probably.  I don’t wanna be with anyone else but her.”

“So how’d you end up liplocked with another gal?”

Hancock’s lip curled over his teeth in a grimace.  “I can’t really remember.  I was fucking blasted out of my mind… high on Jet and at least half a bottle of whiskey deep.  An old… err… _acquaintance_ thought it’d be a good time to try to rekindle the flames, I guess.  Fuck if I can think of her name, or what I said to her.  I just remember getting up to leave and then she was all over me.  I shoved her back, and that’s when I saw Rose.”  He shook his head.  “I shoulda said something to her, but I was so fucking gone that I thought I had to be hallucinating.  I didn’t realize that she was really back until Cara cracked me across the face.”  He gave Nick a sharp side-eyed glance.  “The same side of my face that you punched, by the way.  So thanks for that.”

Nick chuckled in spite of himself.  “You saying you would have done any different?”

“Nah.  Though I might’ve come at you with a bat instead of my fists.”  He smirked.  “Guess I should be thankful you didn’t think of that.”

They continued in silence for a couple of minutes.  The tension between the two friends had lessened considerably, but it was obvious that Hancock was still conflicted over something.  Nick waited patiently until he spoke again.

“Listen, Nicky,” he said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck.  “I ain’t great at these sorts of things, but uh… thanks.  You know, for lookin’ after Rose when I should have been.  I owe ya for that.”

“Didn’t do it for your sake,” Nick pointed out, but he nodded.  “I’ll keep that in mind next time you get it in your head to do something stupid.”

* * *

They reached the edge of the Glowing Sea without spotting Rose once.  Hancock had hoped they might stumble upon her sometime during the night, but apparently she had stubbornly refused to stop and rest.  It looked like she was trying to make it to Virgil’s in one shot… because going into the Sea alone and exhausted was definitely smart, and not suicidal in the least.

Yeah, right.

Finding her trail became much easier once they passed into the Glowing Sea, though.  Rose left a string of exploded bloatflys, dismembered bloodbugs, one or two dead ferals, and a regular supply of empty Rad-X and Rad-Away containers for them to follow.  Fighting the pests and stopping to medicate herself definitely slowed her down, because the corpses got steadily more fresh the further in they got.

It wasn’t long before they came up on the edge of the giant blast crater that the Children of Atom called home.  It loomed up in front of them like a small mountain, still littered with pre-war debris.  They were still a ways off when a hint of blue against the sickly brown-and-yellow landscape caught Hancock’s eye.

“There she is!” he exclaimed, pointing off to the crest rising up to their left.  “And she’s fighting… oh, _Christ_ , Sunshine!”

Rose was dancing her way around two large and very pissed off radscorpions.  A dead one lay not far off to the side.  Out of all the nasty fucking things that festered in the Sea, she just _had_ to attract the attention of one of the worst.  _At least it ain’t another fuckin’ deathclaw._ Without wasting another second, Nick and Hancock ran over to join the fight.

It was pretty clear that Rose was getting fatigued.  She tripped as she dodged a nip from the claws of one radscorpion, and then narrowly rolled out of the way of the stinger from the second.  She wasn’t going to be able to get to her feet fast enough to dodge a third time, but a blast from Hancock’s double-barrel shattered the carapace on the second radscorpion’s pincer as it lunged for her.  Splattered her with bug goo, but at least her head was still attached to her shoulders.

The giant mutated insect thrashed in anger and pain, nearly knocking them both over as Hancock pulled Rose to her feet.  It was a testament to her ability to focus in combat that she didn’t so much as bat an eye at their appearance.  She fell into step beside him like they’d done in countless other fights, and for a moment Hancock was gripped by a ridiculous gratitude for the damn insects.

Nick emptied his .44 magnum into the radscorpion’s face as they retreated to deal with the first bug.  A regular pistol might not have done too much damage, but the force from the .44 was enough to pierce all the way through the thing’s exoskeleton.

The first radscorpion advanced on Rose and Hancock as Nick reloaded, albeit hesitantly.  One lone human it was willing to deal with; three was another matter altogether.  When it struck at them with its stinger, they dodged to both sides to flank it.  Hancock took out a couple of legs with his shotgun, and hurriedly stepped back to reload.  That was the only trouble with double-barrels… they packed a meaner punch, but only having two shots at a time could make things tricky.

Rose, it seemed, had emptied her magazine some time ago.  She didn’t bother with her shotgun; instead she seized the end of the radscorpion’s tail, grabbing the segment just below the stinger, and thrust her knife into it.  The radscorpion flailed, trying to get free, but its own movements helped her to slice its stinger off so that it fell harmlessly to the ground.

By that time Nick had a fresh round of ammo.  Rose saw him take aim and rolled herself out of the way.  The radscorpion tried to snip at her, catching the fabric of her vault suit as she tucked into a ball.  Nick fired again, every one of his bullets finding its mark in and around the radscorpion’s eyes.  It shuddered and jerked, and then finally went limp.

“Good shooting, Nick,” Rose said, like she’d expected them to show up all along.  Hell, who was he kidding… she’d probably had.  She pushed herself to her feet and gingerly stretched her sore limbs.  “For a minute there I thought I was going to be dinner.”

Hancock felt a not-small flare of irritation.  Her nonchalance chafed him… no doubt she meant it to.  They’d chased her across half of the damn Commonwealth and rescued her from being bug food, and she was as casual as they’d just met her for drinks.  It was her lack of concern for herself, Hancock decided, that incensed him more than anything.  Her choice to go off alone had nearly gotten her killed and it was like she couldn’t care less.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.  Rose’s eyes shifted over to him, and her entire posture went rigid.

“I was bringing Virgil his FEV cure,” she replied coolly.  “He held up his end of the deal; I was making good on mine.”

The forbidding look on her face made him want to shrink back in guilt.  But he didn’t come out to this hellscape to turn tail, so he kept a tight grip on his anger.

“By walking into the Glowing Sea alone?” he growled.  “You coulda gotten yourself killed!  _Would have_ , if we hadn’t shown up!”

“I don’t need an escort everywhere I go.”

As though that settled matters, she slung the strap of her shotgun over her shoulder, picked up her pack where it had fallen sometime during the fight, and started walking.

“Rose…” Nick tried, but she didn’t break stride.

“Thanks for the assist, Nick,” she said over her shoulder.  “I can take it from here.”

Christ, but she could be infuriating sometimes.  Hancock started after her and grabbed her wrist to pull her to a stop.

“Will you just stop for one fucking second?”

Her green eyes flashed.  “Let go of my arm, Hancock.”

She’d called him by his last name.  She hadn’t done that since they’d… well, since they’d started sleeping together.  He blinked, a little confused by how much that stung, but quickly shook it off.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but that ain’t a reason to…” He paused, picking up on the agitated clicking of her Pip-boy.  He took a second look at her, covered in radioactive bug gunk and with several tears in the fabric of her vault suit.  The wrist he held was the same one that sported the portable computer, and when he glanced down at the readings he nearly had a heart attack.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Rose!”

“What?”  She followed his gaze.  “Oh.  Huh.  Guess I haven’t taken as much Rad-Away as I should have.”

“Rose, with this much radiation in your system, I don’t know how you’re not pukin’ your guts out right now.”  He pulled her pack off of her shoulder and began rummaging through it for the bags of yellowish medicine. 

“If you’re looking for a way out, kid, there are less ugly ways to go about it,” Nick said, sounding pained.  “Though I’d hope that’s not the case.”

Rose put a hand on his arm.  “I just forgot to dose myself, that’s all, Nick.  I swear.”

“How?”  Hancock paused, Rad-Away in hand, to give her a skeptical look.  “Last time we were out here, if you didn’t take a hit every thirty minutes, you turned greener than Virgil and could barely move.”

Rose shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just…” Then she paused as really began to think about it.  “Actually, I haven’t felt sick the entire time I’ve been out here.  I’ve taken Rad-X and Rad-Away to be safe, but I feel… great.”  She glanced back at the dead radscorpions.  “I mean, bumps and bruises aside.”

Both men stared at her like she had started speaking gibberish.

“Rose, that isn’t possible,” Nick said gently, like she was in the middle of some kind of breakdown.

“Spendin’ a lot of time with a ghoul don’t make you one, Sunshine,” Hancock said.  “If we don’t get some Rad-Away in you soon these rads are gonna finish the job those scorpions started.”

Rose stared at him… not angrily, thank god, he didn’t think he could take much more of that.  Her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were wide.  An instant later and she was tapping away on her Pip-boy, her movements jerky with adrenaline.

“I need to go back to the Institute,” she said, more to herself than to them.  “I swear to God, if he did something…”

“Are you insane?”  Hancock tried to pull her hand away from the Pip-boy’s screen and she shoved him back.  “If you think we’re gonna let you go back there…”

“I am, and you can’t stop me.”

She didn’t look up at him.  Hancock grabbed her shoulders, unintentionally shaking her a bit in his alarm.

“Rose, you can’t go back there.  _Please_.”  Fuck, he couldn’t deal with that again.  He’d fucking beg her on his knees if that’s what she wanted.

She finally looked up at him, and there were so many emotions swimming in her eyes that he wasn’t sure which ones were directed at him.

“Too late.”

There was a crackle of electricity, a low vibration in his bones, and then everything was wiped out in a flash of blue light.


	18. Chapter 18

**(Hancock)**

“Rose!”

His voice echoed strangely, and it took a second for him to realize that she was still standing in front of him.  It would’ve made him feel like an idiot if he weren’t so relieved.  She seemed confused for a moment too, and then rolled her eyes.

“Oh, fuck.  I forgot that I could bring-”

A loud beeping alarm drowned out the rest of her sentence, accompanied by flashing red lights.  It was then that Hancock realized they weren’t in the Glowing Sea, but somehow standing in a circular room he’d never seen before.

“Warning:  high levels of radiation detected,” a cool female voice said from speakers positioned somewhere in the room.  “Please prepare for decontamination.”

“What’s decontam-”

An instant later foam shot out of the ceiling, covering them both completely.  It smelled astringent, like rubbing alcohol or bleach, and tasted about as good when it accidentally got into their mouths.  Overhead sprinklers turned on a moment or two later.  They stayed on until they were both rinsed clean of the white foam, drenching them completely in the process.

“Well, that’s new,” Rose muttered.  She looked about as happy as drowned cat, and he didn’t imagine that he looked much better.

She jumped as the floor beneath their feet glowed red; the room quickly filled with an almost-too-hot warmth that evaporated the water and had them dry in minutes.

“Decontamination complete,” the female voice said- she almost sounded a little smug.  “Radiation levels within acceptable parameters.”

“A little more warning would be nice, next time,” Rose said tersely into the air.  She looked back at Hancock, worry creasing her brow.  “Well… welcome to the Institute.”

“The Institute?”  Hancock followed her out into a larger room that had a few computer-type things, and little else.  It was all so _clean_.  “How did we…?”

“They installed a courser chip on my Pip-boy when I was here last,” Rose explained.  Her fingers were drumming a nervous tattoo against her hip.  “It’s tuned to their frequency so I can teleport to and from here whenever I want, without having to use that massive relay we built the first time.”  Her gaze flickered over to him, but she mostly kept her eyes fixed on a staircase at the back.  “I forgot that the chip creates a field strong enough to bring more than just me along.”

“Where is this place?”

“Somewhere underground.  I think maybe underneath the…”

She trailed off, her posture turning defensive as the sound of footsteps echoed up from the next room.  Several stony-faced men armed with laser rifles began emerging from the stairs.  Hancock started to bring up his double-barrel, but Rose put a hand on his arm and shook her head.

The armed security didn’t say anything.  Every instinct Hancock had was yelling at him to shoot, but Rose didn’t seem afraid… only tense.  At the back of their little troop was an older man dressed in a white coat.  He walked in slowly and purposefully, and gazed at Rose with a small frown.

“Mother.  I’m pleased to see you’ve come back to us so soon.”  He shifted his eyes to Hancock and tilted his head.  “I see you brought a… friend.”

Mother?  Hancock looked to Rose for an explanation, but she wasn’t paying attention to him.  What the hell was going on?

“I didn’t mean to,” Rose explained.  “It was an accident.”  She gestured towards all the guards.  “Is all of this really necessary?”

The man arched an eyebrow.  “You came in with an unexpected guest.  We don’t take risks lightly, as you well know.”  He folded his arms.  “But it appears that little harm has been done.  We can send him to Bioscience to wipe his memory and then he can be on his way.”

Hancock bared his teeth; no way in _hell_ they were doing anything to his brain.  Rose clearly felt the same way.  She stepped protectively in front of him with her hands up as a couple of the guards moved towards them.

“Shaun, that’s not necessary,” she stated firmly.

 _Shaun?_ Was that old man Rose’s son?  Hancock narrowed his eyes and studied him a little more closely.  He had green eyes like Rose’s, and he supposed their jawlines looked similar… but that couldn’t be right.  The man was easily twice Rose’s age.  The Shaun they were looking for was ten, twelve years old, tops.  This guy could have been her father… which he might have thought was the case, if he hadn’t seen the memory of her dad dying firsthand.

“He’s only seen this room, and you know the relay stopped being a secret the instant we began building that signal interceptor,” she said.  “We won’t be here long; I only came back to have a few words with you.  He can wait here until we’re done, but I don’t want any of your scientists doing _anything_ to him.”

“I had hoped you would trust-”

“If you want me to trust you, then you need to explain what you did to me while I was unconscious.”  Rose’s voice was steel.  “Call off the coursers.  _Now_.”

The old man- Shaun- sighed.  “Very well.”  He motioned to the guards, who backed off, then held out a hand to Rose.  “We can discuss this further in my office.”

She didn’t move.  “I’ll follow behind you.”

Shaun nodded, and left with his little entourage.  One of the Coursers stayed, with his back against the wall.

“Rose, what is going on?” Hancock asked, now that they were (mostly) alone.  “Was that Shaun?  I thought he was supposed to be a kid?”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Rose replied quickly. “Just do me a favor, and stay put.  That courser won’t hesitate to kill you if you cause trouble.  Be patient, and I’ll be back soon.”

She turned to leave, but he took her hand to stop her.  “Rose, wait.  I…”

She shook her head.  “Not here.”  She dropped her voice to just above a whisper.  “They record _everything_.  We can talk once I’m certain we’re not being watched.”

She left, only pausing to glare at the courser on her way out.

“I’d better not see so much as a single scratch on him when I get back,” she warned.

“Of course not, ma’am.”

* * *

**(Rose)**

Shaun was waiting at his desk in the upper level of his chambers when Rose caught up with him.  Her anger had been building with every step she’d taken, and seeing him look as calm as ever only served to make it worse.

“You and I need to talk, Shaun,” Rose said, jaw set angrily as she sat down across from him.

“I gathered as much,” he said, just a touch wryly.  “What about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Shaun.  I may have only known you for a year, but you’re still my son and I can tell when you’re full of shit.”  She glared at him, torn between her desire to love him and the betrayal she felt.  “You had your scientists do something to me when I passed out here, didn’t you?  You did something so that the radiation wouldn’t bother me as much.”

Shaun sighed, and nodded his head.  “Yes, we did.  I didn’t feel it prudent to tell you at the time, seeing as you were still emotionally vulnerable; I felt the knowledge would only vex you further.”

“Because being _lied to_ isn’t vexing enough?!”

“A poor judgment, on my part,” he admitted.

“What did you do to me, Shaun?”

“It was a new treatment we’ve devised,” he explained, still infuriatingly unruffled.  “We had already tested it on multiple creatures bred in captivity here with a large level of success, and felt it was ready for human trials.  As the only human who would be willingly going aboveground and getting exposed to radiation on a regular basis, you were an obvious first choice.  Your relatively pure genetics helped as well, of course.”

“Shaun, I’m trying really hard here not to start throwing things, so you might want to get to the point.”

“We’ve developed a drug that mimics the effects of becoming a ‘ghoul,’ as you call them,” he said.  “Or rather, I should say that we have been working to perfect it.  The drug itself had already existed… your companion that you brought along with you is result of the drug’s early stages.  Hancock, I believe his name is?”

Rose’s mouth dropped open.  “You dosed me with the same drug that John took to turn himself into a ghoul?”

“Not _exactly_ the same.  As I said, we have been working to perfect it.  Obviously, I would not have consented to the test if I believed you were in any danger of suffering the less desirable side effects.”  Shaun crossed his legs and steepled his fingers together.  “Radiation, as I’m sure you know, is disastrous to human health in anything but extremely minor doses.  For ghouls, however, it is a rejuvenating and healing force.  That, combined with their extraordinarily long life spans, make them a fascinating subject for medical research.  I first began encouraging research into their population as a young man, believing that they may hold the secret to making the surface safely habitable once again.

 “Over the course of the past twenty or so years, we’ve taken samples from the Commonwealth, and have studied their DNA to find out what changed to make them so resilient.  I didn’t stumble across the presence of the original drug until your friend happened to catch our attention.  We were already working closely with Mayor McDonough to keep an eye on the so-called ‘Diamond City’… and when his brother very suddenly changed into a ghoul, he piqued our interest.  I sent a few of our synths undercover, if you will, into Goodneighbor to find out more information.  Eventually we were able to locate the military bunker where Mr. Hancock had discovered the drug.  There were not any samples left, regrettably, but enough notes on the medical terminals there for us to pick up where the pre-war scientists had left off.

“I’m proud to say that _our_ scientists were not only able to isolate the mutated chromosomes that make the evolutionary advances in ghouls possible, but they have managed to do so without incurring the usual scarring and other physical deformities that accompany the condition.  You, dear mother, are the first human subject to prove our success.”

Rose put a hand to her head, brow drawn.  “So let me get this straight… are you saying you turned me into a ghoul?  But that I won’t look like a ghoul.”

“More or less, yes.  All test results imply that you will continue to experience healing effects from radiation, and will likely experience a similar prolonged lifespan.  Or at least, such has been the case with previous subjects.  Now that it appears we’ve been successful with you, we can begin administering the treatment to volunteers.”

“Are you _fucking_ insane?”  Rose jumped to her feet, kicking her chair out from behind her.  “That could have easily killed me!  Or left me feral!”

“Since there is no actual radiation involved in the treatment, it is unlikely that you would have turned feral.  None of our other subjects showed an increase in aggression after being dosed.  And the death rate was extremely low.”

“So that makes it okay,” she scoffed.  “Great!”  Furious, she swept her arm along the desk, knocking everything off to the floor.  “I suppose my _consent_ didn’t matter in any of this, right?”

Shaun frowned, bewildered.  “We did not imagine you would object.  The effects are so obviously beneficial…”

“You don’t experiment on people without their permission, Shaun!” Rose yelled.  “That’s basic ethics!  And you said that you took ‘samples’ to make this happen?  Did you kidnap ghouls to make your drug?”

“Only temporarily.  We identified loners, brought them here to run our tests, wiped their memories, and sent them back no worse for wear.”

“Jesus _Christ_!”

“No harm was done, Mother.”

“Your definition of harm and mine are far off then.”  She held her head in her hands, fighting the urge for violence that reared up with her anger.  “I need to leave.  I can’t be here right now.”

Shaun stood and reached out to her.  “Mother, if you would just calm yourself-”

“ _Don’t_ , Shaun.”  She roughly shrugged him off and whipped around to head for the door.  “Don’t try to contact me, don’t send anyone after me.  I’ll come back when – and _if_ \- I’m ready to discuss this more calmly.  But until then, I can’t even look at you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole branch of the story was inspired by the "Ghoulification" perk in the Endurance perk tree, if that weren't already obvious =P. It also made a convenient way to solve the potential lifespan problem between Rose and Hancock, NGL.


	19. Chapter 19

**(Hancock)**

Teleporting didn’t get any more comfortable with practice, it seemed.  Static still prickled at Hancock’s skin when they reappeared in the Commonwealth, and he had to rub at his arms and legs to get it to stop.  His stomach felt like it had been flipped around a couple times too. Thankfully, that faded pretty quickly.

The expression on Rose’s face had been murderous when she had returned from her talk with Shaun.  He’d been leaning against the wall opposite to the courser where he could keep an eye on the killer synth when she zipped back up in that fancy glass elevator of theirs.  She hadn’t said a word to either of them, but her entire body had been practically vibrating with anger.  The last time he had seen her that furious, she was busy turning Kellogg into a pulpy, bloody mess.  The man she had called Shaun wasn’t with her, but there were no alarms or armed guards scrambling so she probably hadn’t killed him.  Probably.

He wasn’t certain how she managed it, but she tapped out a few commands in her Pip-boy and suddenly they were both standing beneath the ruins of the overpass, just on the outskirts of the Glowing Sea.  Which was just as well… popping out of thin air in a blue flash of light would be a quick way to get killed in any populated area, even for the two of them.  Maybe especially for the two of them.  And Rose wasn’t exactly in a state to be around the general public.

“I can’t _believe_ him!” she shouted, as soon as their feet were solidly on the ground.  She ripped off her Pip-boy and flung it as hard as she could.  She followed that up with a rotting board and several other pieces of old debris that were within easy reach.

Hancock bit his tongue to keep from asking what had happened.  She was, for the moment, distracted from being pissed at him, and he wasn’t about to make himself the target of that rage.  He stood back a couple of yards, quietly waiting for her to vent herself out.  She found an old metal pipe to beat the hell out of one of the skeletal automobile wrecks.  The violent clangs of metal on metal were sure to attract attention, but anyone who was stupid enough to threaten Rose in this state deserved what they got.

Rose continued to punish the old wreck until she was out of breath.  Then she sank to ground, her hands fisted tightly around the roots of her hair and shoulders bowed. 

She looked so… defeated.  Any frustration he was feeling himself—over her going to the Institute, or her bailing for the Glowing Sea on her own—sapped out of him as he watched her.  Seeing her like this was wrong… all of it was wrong.  She was supposed to have come back with her son in hand, having triumphantly kicked the Institute’s ass.  Instead, Hancock felt like he was watching her through the lens of one of his recent nightmares.

“My son is a monster,” Rose said weakly, speaking to the ground.  He wasn’t sure if she was actually talking to him or just thinking out loud.  “I took on the entire world to save an unfeeling _monster._ ”  Her voice cracked, and she curled in tighter on herself.  In a very quiet, small voice she whispered, “What do I do now?”

That did it.  He couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t handle seeing her be so damn _heartbroken_.  She could be as pissed at him as much as she wanted, but he couldn’t just stand there and watch her go through this.  He knelt down beside her and tugged her lightly into his arms.  There was the chance that she’d use her shotgun on him next, but it was worth the risk.

Luckily, it seemed Rose had drained all her rage for the moment.  She stiffened for about a second when he touched her, but she didn’t push him off or try to pull away.

“John,” she said, using his name she was trying to bring herself back.  Her voice cleared and regained a touch of firmness.  “I am _very_ upset with you.”

Despite her words, there wasn’t any actual venom in her tone.  She mostly just sounded exhausted.  She didn’t look up at him, but he could feel her lean more heavily into his embrace.

“Can’t say I blame ya,” he replied evenly.  “Been pretty pissed at myself lately, too.”

He sat back against the iron bars of the wreck so that he could gather her against his chest.  He’d been expecting screaming, maybe having to dodge a few bullets or getting pelted with whatever household junk was handy… but not this.  Somehow, it made him even more worried than if she’d exploded on him.

“So who was she?” Rose asked quietly.  He didn’t have to ask who she meant.

“No one,” he started to say, but he changed his mind.  “She’s someone I used to fool around with, right after I cleared out Vic’s operation.  I’d broken it off with her probably before you’d even defrosted.”  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, savoring the scent of her hair as she tucked her head under his chin.  “She’s a leech who was tryin’ to take advantage of my stupidity.”

“Didn’t look like she was having to try too hard.”

He tightened his arms around her.  “I was high off my ass and bein’ nicer than I should have.  It’s not a mistake I’ll make a second time.  If it makes you feel better, I think you mighta scared her and everyone else in that bar enough that it shouldn’t be a problem again.”  He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head.  “There ain’t nobody else out there for me but you, Sunshine.  Tell me what I can do to prove that to you, and I’ll do it.”

She didn’t say anything.  For a moment he wondered if she might’ve fallen asleep, but then her shoulders began to shake.  He pulled back in alarm to try to look at her, but she ducked her head, hiding her face.

“Sunshine?”

“I wish I had never gone to the Institute,” she said, her voice a thin whimper.  Her shoulders began to shake more violently as she struggled not to cry.  “You were right, I should’ve stayed.  I wish it had ended with Kellogg.  I should’ve…” her breath hitched painfully, and she couldn’t quite finish her sentence.  “I should’ve…”

“Hey, take it easy, love.  It’s gonna be okay,” he said, brushing her hair aside so he could wipe away the tears that had started to fall down her cheeks.  “Whatever it is, Rose, we can handle it.”

She shook her head and scrubbed the tears from her eyes.  “No, it’s not going to be okay, John.  That man- the one you saw in the Institute- that _is_ Shaun.  That man is my son.  The boy I saw in Kellogg’s memories was just a synth copy.”  She clenched her jaw, and her voice dropped into a snarl.  “Just another one of his _fucking_ experiments.”

And then she spilled everything.  She told him about finding Shaun, about how he had set her free from the vault as some kind of sick game to ease his boredom.  She told him what she discovered about their experiments, and how the Institute hadn’t just been taking people to replace them with synths, but had been turning them into supermutants as well.  She told him how the Deacon and the rest of his crew had been right about how the synths were all treated as slaves.  And how Shaun justified all of this because he saw _his_ people, with their own twisted ideal of humanity, as more important and valid than any kind of society created on the surface.

“I gave birth to a goddamned _monster_ , John,” she said.  Her eyes were red, but she’d stopped crying as anger and disbelief began to displace her grief once again.  “My son- that tiny little life that I carried inside me for nine months- is the same person who has ordered the kidnap and torture and _murder_ of so many people in the Commonwealth.  And he’s done it all thinking that he’s the new savior of humankind every goddamned step of the way.”  She closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands.  “There isn’t another living person on this earth who scares me as much now as my own son does.”

“Jesus,” Hancock murmured, stunned.  There wasn’t much else he could say.  He had thought of a lot of scary, fucked-up possible outcomes for Rose’s vendetta over the past couple months, but he wouldn’t have dreamt of something like this even during the craziest high.

No wonder Rose had flipped out so bad when she found what’s-her-name putting the moves on him in the Third Rail.  This… this was just flat-out _cruel_.  And by some fucking miracle she was still here.  A total mess, sure, but alive and breathing and coherent.  If he’d been in her place, there was little doubt that he’d have found a way to end it all.  Probably by going on a rampage through that too-clean circle of Hell and taking as many of those white-coated fucks with him as he could before getting gunned down.

But somehow she was still here.  She’d had the one hope that defined every move she’d made since walking out of that vault ripped from her in what had to be the absolute worst way possible, and she was still in his arms.  He hadn’t ever been one to have any kind of faith—if there was a God, He never seemed to care much about what was happening here on the ground—but he knew a fucking miracle when he saw one.

“I should have listened to Kellogg,” Rose said, her voice drenched in bitterness.  “I should have accepted that my son was lost a long, long time ago.”

“So why’d you go back?” Hancock asked.  “What did you have to talk to him about that was so important?”

She started just a bit, like she had just remembered something.  She looked out into the Glowing Sea and then back down at her hands.  Her fingers traced lines all over her skin like she was feeling for something she couldn’t see.

“He changed me,” she said hesitantly.  Then she clenched her hands into fists.  “He used his own mother like a fucking lab rat because he just couldn’t resist a ‘pure’ specimen.  And then he expected me to be _grateful_.”

Hancock’s pulse skyrocketed.  He couldn’t stop himself from pulling her around to face him, so he could search her face, her hands, every visible inch of her that he could reach.  She endured his alarm stoically, but her calm did nothing to ease his own anxiety.

“He hurt you?”  His voice had a rough edge that vibrated in his chest.  If Shaun had touched so much as one hair on her head… but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  A few bruises and a scrape or two, but those were probably from fighting the radscorpions. 

“John, stop,” Rose said after a moment, a little impatiently.  “It’s not something you can see.”  Her brow creased.  “Shaun, he… I think he made me into a ghoul.”

That was… not what he had been expecting.  Hancock gazed at her with a new kind of worry.  She was very clearly _not_ a ghoul.  She still had the same beautiful, soft skin, the same burnished auburn hair, the same clear green eyes.  Had Shaun done something to her head to make her think that?

“Love, I don’t know if you’ve looked in a mirror lately…” he began slowly, but she closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I know, I know, John.  I know that I don’t _look_ like a ghoul.  I haven’t gone that crazy… not yet.” 

There was a bit of dry humor in her voice, but he was still concerned.  

“Then what exactly do you mean?”  He let his hands slide down around her throat, and brushed a thumb over her cheek.  “What did he do to you, love?”

“When I first got to the Institute, I… I passed out,” she confessed, a little ashamedly.  “I guess the shock of everything was too much.  I didn’t know it at the time, but Shaun used that as an opportunity to test out a drug that would rewrite my DNA.”  She gave him a significant look.  “A drug I’m told you would be rather familiar with.”

He blinked.  “No shit?  How did they…”

“They recreated it from notes and old files,” Rose explained.  “Shaun said they had been trying to perfect it; he wanted to create something that would allow humans to be unaffected by the surface radiation, and maybe even benefit from it.  That’s why I didn’t feel sick in the Glowing Sea.  Shaun’s created something that gives a person all of the benefits of being a ghoul- even the long life span, if his hypothesis is correct- without any of the negative physical side effects.”

“Holy shit.”  If his eyes got any wider, they’d probably pop out of his skull.  “So that means that you-”

“You two oughta be a little louder; think there’s a couple of raiders in Quincy who weren’t able to hear you.”

They both jumped.  Nick had appeared, looking a little irritated but otherwise none the worse for wear.  Rose immediately got to her feet and walked over to the synth detective, shoulders hunched apologetically.

“Sorry for leaving you like that, Nick,” she said.  “I, uh, wasn’t thinking very straight.”  She glanced back at Hancock and shook her head just a little.  “I also didn’t think I’d be bringing John along for the ride.”

“Not like I’d be scrambling to get back inside the Institute anyway,” Nick replied, inclining his head.  “But next time, maybe wait until we’re outside of the most dangerous area of the Commonwealth before leaving me stranded.  I know you’ve got a lot of confidence in this old synth’s abilities, but I’m starting to think I’ll run outta luck sooner or later.”  His expression softened, and he reached out to put a hand on Rose’s shoulder.  “I couldn’t help but overhear the last few minutes of your conversation.  You doing alright, kid?”

In response, Rose just mutely dropped her forehead against his chest.  Nick held her for a few moments, and waited for her to speak.

After a few deep breaths, Rose stepped back and faced both of them seriously. 

“Listen, I owe both of you an apology,” she said, and she held up a hand when they both jumped to interrupt.  “No, I do, you two _know_ that I do.  It was really dangerous coming out here by myself… I just needed time on my own.  In hindsight there are probably a lot of better ways to go about that.”  She looked at Hancock, and her lips lifted just slightly.  “I may have wanted to punish you a little bit too.  Just a little.”

“If that was your goal, then I’ve got a few alternatives I’ll let you try out when we get back to Goodneighbor,” Hancock replied, winking.  Nick rolled his eyes, but a smile flitted across Rose’s face.  _Worth it_.

“I’ve led both of you and so many other people on what’s ended up being a wild goose chase,” she said earnestly.  “I’m sorry I got you both tangled up in this.”  

“You got nothing to be sorry for,” Nick said, kindly patting her on the back.  “At least half of the Commonwealth owes you their lives… or a hell of a big favor.  Both of us, included.  I can think of a lot worse ways to pay someone back than helping her find her son.  Just wish it had turned out better for you, in the end.”

Rose kissed Nick’s cheek, and then tucked herself up against Hancock’s side when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“I think I’m ready to go home now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a LOT of feels in this last chapter. 
> 
> Annnnnd also I'm a liar. I know I've been saying this is a trilogy, but there's still so much that I want to explore/ do here, and I couldn't really accomplish that without making this fic crazy long. So there'll at least be a part four to this series. Hopefully you all don't hate me for dragging this out longer 0_0.
> 
> For those of you who have read all the way up to this point, THANK YOU SO MUCH. You guys are the absolute best, and are the reason why I work so hard at trying to make these fics as awesome as I possibly can <3.


End file.
